


Warhawk

by unicornologist



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Kinda, M/M, Slow Burn, Space AU, Star Trek AU, Swearing, War, lots of politics, spaceship, war of 1812 au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 14:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11876229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornologist/pseuds/unicornologist
Summary: Twelve years ago, the Terran Revolution ended.  Nicky Fury swore an oath to himself and the known universe that he would never return to the empty void of space again. He vowed that he would rather be tried for treason than set foot on another warship. Yet somehow, all these years later, here he stands in front of his captain’s chair watching the endless black surge past his ship. He watched his crew readying for the battle to come; he could hear Rogers and Barnes bickering over strategy while Romanov and Stark readied the long range blaster cannons and checked the shields. “The universe has a sick sense of humor.” He muttered to himself with a sigh.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a slow burn, enemies to lovers type scenario. 
> 
> Also it's basically the USS Constitution's role in the War of 1812 but set in the future in space with (maybe) more gayness.
> 
> This will likely undergo further editing over the next several months, when I get some time to return to it!
> 
> Hannah (tumblr @sundaecherries) made extraordinary art which I am including in chapter 5! Go check it out!

Nick Fury blinked rapidly as the blue digital threads rushed around him, materializing into the shape of a conference table glowing in a shadowy room. Nick could see the shadows shifting as he settled into his seat. The others invited to the meeting quickly phased into the projection as well; faces of politicians caught mid-speech momentarily frozen into grotesque masks. As soon as the final pixels slid into place cacophonous noise began to spill into Nick’s earpiece and the projected figures began to move, gesticulating wildly. Glancing to his left, Nick watched as Maria Hill materialized into the space next to him. Her face was impassive, a stark contrast to the gathered individuals in the rest of the room.

“This is going to be a complete shit show.” Maria muttered, glancing around the table. Snippets of other conversations made their way down to Maria and Nick.

“... simply not enough funding!”  
“… not to mention the Mayallian trade ports are imperative..”  
“We must assert ourselves or be the victim of circumstance, a political joke...”

Hill quietly cleared her throat and looked pointedly down the table towards their companions before glancing back to Fury. The present individuals continued to squabble and chat, despite the arrival of the stern pair.

“This is why I never work with politicians.” Nicky ground out low enough that only Maria heard him. She folded her lips in, carefully hiding her amusement and focusing on her notes. Fury could see her arranging digital files on the table in front of her. She stacked and reorganized papers while waiting for the meeting to begin. Lists of names along with carefully detailed blueprints materialized in front of her. Fury glanced at his own desk, sparsely populated. He wondered briefly what all of that material could possible contain. 

As the last few members of the committee phased into the digital conference space, a gradual hush fell over the room and they turned to face the seat of honor, directly at the head of the table.

“Thank you all for your attendance today.” Said Charles Xavier, President of the United Federation of Earth. There were nods of acknowledgement around the table, as the attendees began to shift in their seats, quieting down and settling in. “I suppose there is no reason to delay or dillydally, we are on an extremely limited schedule. As you all know we are here today to discuss the possibility of building a new fleet of intergalactic ships. Warships that would constitute a new branch in our armed forces, focusing exclusively on intergalactic conflict and protecting our merchant fleets.” President Xavier waved his hand and a set of digital projections appeared above the table. The entire room seemed to be engulfed in a miasma of flickering stars and complex planetary arrangements. Among the 3D projections, glowing blue lines trace common routes through the galaxy, and red highlighted pins were scattered across nearly every sector. Fury glanced between the points, mentally noting where they were in the map before realizing that they indicated the locations of recent intergalactic conflicts. “I cannot emphasize enough the troubling nature of the recent attacks against Terran merchants and our travelers abroad. You can see the heightened number of conflicts, particularly along the most profitable trade routes for our merchant class.” With another wave of his hand, several of the blue lines were replaced with green lines. They connected the most important trade ports. “However, there are many possible solutions to be discussed. It may seem that I called you here today as a war council, to dictate military plans, But as many would argue, perhaps there are more peaceable solutions that we should consider before we declare war.” The atmosphere in the room seemed to shift towards a much more serious tone as the projection continued to highlight the death and destruction abroad. Each bright, red dot now had statistics running underneath, listing numbers dead or missing in action. Fury already knew every one of those numbers, carefully memorized during long nights of studying and strategizing. 

“The Terran Revolution may not be very far in our past, a mere 10 years, but intergalactic politics do not wait for a nation to decide they are ready to enter into the political melee. We must be ready to send a firm message and defend our interests abroad.” Xavier continued, frowning as his eyes roamed around the shadowy room. “We must act quickly and we must act decisively.” He continued. One of this hands came to rest decisively on the table. 

“Pardon this rude intrusion, Mr. President.” A member of the committee voiced from across the table. “But could you perhaps explain the rationale behind why we might chose to finally invest in these ships? We purposefully disbanded the intergalactic force after the revolution. At the behest of the United Federation of Earth’s government, we have been focusing on economic gains, rather than military displays of power.” His voice faltered slightly, tripping over a heavy accent. Nick opened one of the files on his desk, scanning through a list of name. If he had to guess, this man was not from Earth, but rather came from Andromeda. 

While the Andromedan groups were one of Earth’s greatest allies during the Terran Revolution, diplomatic relations had become increasingly strained in the last few years. Unlike most galaxies, Andromeda had never fallen victim to the Mayallian forces. Instead, the two groups warred bitterly for much of their history. Earth’s resistance to Mayallian occupation appealed to the Andromeda group; the enemy of my enemy and all that. At least it was appealing until after the Revolution, when Earth reopened friendly relations with the Mayallians for trade purposes. The breakdown of the friendship between the Milky Way and Andromeda in international relations made immigration between the two galaxies extremely difficult and highly controversial, even though trade routes remained active between the two planets. Nick made a mental note to look into the involvement of the Andromeda group in the formation of a possible Terran intergalactic navy. If their participation meant a re-opening of diplomatic relations, it changed the political landscape in international space significantly; if this was under the table - this was a serious transgression of what little trust remained between the Milky Way and the Andromedea group. 

“Of course, Councilman Aït-Kaci.” President Xavier smiled indulgently, waving away the projection, the digital stars dissolved into murky darkness. “As you well know, the Mayall Empire has continued to expand their colonial and imperialist holdings across a large number of galaxies, monopolizing intergalactic trade and marginalizing native populations.” He waved again and another projection appeared above the table, this time no trade routes or pins littered the map. Instead, each area invaded by the Mayall Empire was highlighted a garish red, pulsating in the light of the digital projections surrounding it.

Another flick of the wrist and the projection began to advance through time. Fury watched the red bleed throughout the projection, slowly infecting every corner of the map. Eventually the Milky Way flared bright red and President Xavier paused the simulation. The room remained eerily silent; the faces of the gathered politicians glowed red. 

“When Earth was placed under Mayallian control, it came with an immediate set of problems. Though our planet was rich in natural resources, we, the Terran peoples, were concerned about the obviously accelerated depletion on valuable resources. Our ecosystems and mineral deposits could not keep up with the demand of the Mayall Empire. They would have run even our most plentiful resources dry in a matter of years. ” He continued.

“Not to mention the active mining of vibranium, one of the rarest metals in intergalactic space.” Another member of the meeting interjected, eyes not lifting from the table. Fury restrained himself from rolling his eyes, though he knew exactly who had spoken.

“Indeed Mr. Stark.” President Xavier agreed, nodding his head in the direction of the figure of the young man who was seated at the far end of the enormous conference table. “It was clear to all that our planet was being sucked dry, rather than the Earth being introduced as a political partner into the Mayall Empire. And this set the stage for the Terran Revolution.” He continued, folding his hands in front of his throat. “Obviously with help from the Andromeda galaxy, we were able to build up enough of an intergalactic fleet along with ample ground forces to win our independence. However,” he paused with a frown, “we simply could not maintain the space ships we used during the war. Financially, it was simply not viable. So we sold them off to the highest bidder.” He motioned again and the projection moved forward several years. Earth turned back into the ambient blue of the map, losing the red glare of the colonial holdings. However the Mayall Empire’s range of influence remained equally as large, red devouring small galaxies.

“Of course, The United Federation of Earth, as a newly independent intergalactic presence, needed money. Trade is an essential component of our economy, but as our merchant fleet grew - we began to experience more and more attacks.” President Xavier waved his hand and the original map reappeared, red dots populating the expanse.

“From the Mayallian fleet?” Council Aït-Kaci inquired, lilting voice echoing in the quiet room.

“Yes, partially. Their special forces division, Hydra, was particularly aggressive.” President Xavier acknowledged. “Though there are really a wide variety of instigators.” He waved his hand and a small number of dots remained highlighted, getting slightly larger. “These are the attacks from pirates. These were the first groups that caused us major issues. Pirates though, do not carry personal grudges. As long as our ships are unprotected, this will continue to be a plague on our merchants.” He waved his hand again and a different set of dots was illuminated. “To be honest, Aït-Kaci, another one of our largest antagonists is the Andromeda group.” He said with a frown. There was a low murmur in the room. “Fairly soon after the Terran Revolution, as I’m sure you all remember, relations between the Mayallian and Andromeda groups worsened significantly and years of antagonism turned to fully militarized conflict. The Earth and the rest of the Milky Way, desperate for the large trading networks both galaxies represented, refused to cut off economic or diplomatic ties with either group. We faced serious threats and skirmishes against Andromedan forces, though no formal declaration of war was made by either party.” President Xavier waved his hand again and the vast majority of dots on the map became illuminated. “It is worth noting that although we did have armed conflicted with Andromeda, the largest number of incidents, and the most egregious, have been with the Mayallian group itself. Clearly lingering resentment from the war has persisted in their approach to intergalactic diplomacy. They have not only been stopping our merchants, but kidnapping our crews and forcing them into service.” He said, frown deepening again. 

“It is unacceptable!” One of the men at the table said, slapping his hand down against the table. A low murmur erupted across the room as people began to shift uncomfortably.

“Enough talk of history.” A smartly dressed women from the other end of the table said, harshly. “This is clearly a problem and that is why we were called here today. What are the possibilities, Mr. President?” She made intense eye contact with Xavier, but the third eye in her forehead blinked open to focus independently on the projections over the table.

“In its most basic form the question comes down to a pacifist solution and an aggressive solution. There is not very much space between at this point.” He answered. “Perhaps Councilman Flynn would discuss the economic issues we are facing around this conflict.” He gestured towards a women sitting across the table nearly obscured by a small forest of documentation, which surrounded her projection in pillars of digital blue file folders.

“I know that emotions run high,” She began, adjusting her glasses, “especially where national pride is concerned, but we must carefully consider the consequences of our actions here today, folks.” Her voice was deep and scratchy, like someone running sand paper over rusted metal. “However appealing vengeance is, taking the aggressive approach will almost certainly damage, if not destroy our relationship with both the Andromeda galaxy and the Mayall Empire. Even though relations are strained right now, we are still actively trading with both of them… A total break could result in,” She shuffled some papers around, running her knobby fingers through pages of text, “approximately 47% of our current trade being erased or put in serious jeopardy. It could destroy a large portion of our merchant class.” She said frowning. “That isn’t to say we will not lose trade value by continuing to be passive. By my best estimates we are currently losing up to 31% of our intergalactic trade opportunities between robbery and the impressment of Terran crews. Not to mention the obvious toll it takes on moral. So I suppose neither is ideal and both create serious issues going into the future, on the economic front.”

“So what does the treasury advise us to do, then?” Another council member spoke up.

“It’s a numbers game.” Flynn said, frowning down at her papers. “It is not that we dislike the idea of war, but, ultimately, we would advise against any behavior that antagonizes our enemies or provokes attack. We are a poor nation, council members, as much as I hate to admit, and we need as much of our growing trade network as we can possibly maintain.” She answered carefully, taking time to choose her words carefully.

“Strategies like that will only ensure more problems in the future. We have to take a firm stand now.” The council member who slammed his hand against the table earlier spoke up again, eyes burning with rage.

“Yes, War Minister Blake. You seem quite committed to the cause, please explain your thoughts.” President Xavier said placidly.

“We are at a crossroads, councilmen. The revolution was a success but we cannot let our fervor and passion for the United Federation of Earth end at national sovereignty. We must fight to assert ourselves as an intergalactic power!” Minister Blake rose out of his chair, hands balling into fists. “If we let ourselves be crushed now, we will remain irrelevant intergalactically forever. This is our chance to push for respect!” He was vibrating in his skin, breathing hard.

“Blake is not wrong.” A man next to him spoke up, patting him comfortingly on the arm. “Though he certainly speaks from the heart, there is an issue not addressed by economic concerns. Namely, the kidnapping of United Federation of Earth crews. That is a violation of any sense of intergalactic decorum. We cannot ignore the implication that neither our goods nor our people are worthy of respect in intergalactic space. The numbers are damning either way. Our trade is suffering and our merchants are losing ground abroad. It is time to act.” He said as Minister Blake settled back into his chair. The room seemed to thrum with quiet energy.

“I would not speak of war so lightly.” Fury growled from his end of the room. He saw Hill stiffen next to him. They had decided to go into this meeting without the intention of participating directly. They both wanted to avoid conflict and resentment, but Fury felt the need to speak up.

“Ah, Captain Fury.” President Xavier said, a small smile on his lips. “Yes, perhaps you could speak to that for a moment. To those who are not familiar with Captain Nick Fury’s illustrious career, he planned and led the most successful set of space battles during the revolution. His experience in extraterrestrial battle is unparalleled and his wisdom is invaluable.” He finished, gesturing for Fury to continue speaking.

“It is important to consider the loss of life we are looking at incurring. If we must consider the kidnapping of our crews, we must also consider the certain death that accompanies open war against the largest intergalactic power in the known universe. The members of this committee must be ready to take on responsibility for the lives lost to this effort if we move forward here today.” He said, folding his arms over his chest. The quiet fervor in the room was quieted, the faces of those gathered sobered by the realities of war.

“I understand that there is no middle ground, no good option.” The woman with the third eye said carefully. “But if we chose to move forward with the more aggressive tactic, what are the next steps? What are our options?” She asked quietly.

“The next steps are fairly straightforward.” President Xavier began. “Recently the Federation Congress has approved the funds to build 6 Discovery Class Frigates. They would form the base for the United Federation of Earth to create its first standing intergalactic navy.” He continued quietly, shifting the projects to show blueprints for the ship design.

“What good will a meager six ships do?” Minister Blake spat, his already wizened face contorting with disapproval.

“They are the best designed ships from the Mayallian force with many unique improvements. Not to mention the access to vibranium. While our numbers are certainly nothing to compete with the Mayallian force, it gives us a place to start. They will at least be enough to defend our small corner of the universe and keep our merchant fleet safe abroad.” He explained easily. “It is certainly antagonistic, to build a navy, and it may increase the aggression the United Federation of Earth merchants face in open space and provoke more open retaliation.” He said with a frown.

“It seems like an economic choice, at least to start off with.” Councilman Flynn added, running numbers through projections on a screen in her lap. “It seems unlikely to cause major intergalactic upheaval, but perhaps it is enough to provide some security for our people.” She nodded serenely. “Is there a time limit on using the funds?” She asked, looking to the President.

“No.” President Xavier answered. “The funds have been set aside, however it is up to the council how and when they are used. We are deciding whether or not to commission these ships based on political and social factors.” Many around the table nodded.

“I am curious, Captain Fury,” Minister Blake began, “what is your opinion on commissioning our 6 frigates?” Though he smiled at Fury, his eyes were flinty and sharp.

“I stand by what I said.” Fury muttered, clearly angry at being challenged in front of the committee. “We are not only building ships, we are building an armed force. If we do this, we are signing death certificates for the future. Don’t mistake my words - I am not against these ships construction. But I do know what it means to lose a life due to your own decisions. Those in this room must be prepared to accept that weight.”

“I understand that this is no ordinary group of people and our time is short.” President Xavier interrupted. “We are not a governing body per se, but instead a special committee. Unless there are any objections, I would like to move forward with voting procedures for today.” The room was silent as minutes ticked by silently.

“Good. We are now entering voting procedures. Your hologram projections are locked in until we exit these procedures.” He stated, typing quickly into a screen on the table below him. “We will use oral resolutions, so please state carefully for the record any proposed items. I will now entertain voting resolutions.” He stated, looking around the room. Blake raised his hand into the air.

“Minister Blake.” The President acknowledged him.

“I propose we build all six of the funded frigates and create a standing navy.” He said, eyes narrowing at Fury and Maria.

“The resolution is to construct the six aforementioned frigates as a start to an intergalactic standing navy. Are there any seconds?” President Xavier asked. Several members voiced their support, a quiet chorus of ayes. “Are there any other proposed resolutions?” He asked but there was no response from the room. Many members of the council shifted uncomfortably, but still no one provided an alternative.

“Right, on the matter of constructing the six frigates and establishing a standing navy, please indicate on the screen in front of you, your choice.” As he spoke, a panel appeared in front of each delegate with three simple options: yes, no, and abstain. The room was quiet for a minute as members of the committee keyed in their responses.

“Thank you.” President Xavier said, running the data through his personal computer interface. “The vote was close, but with a 58% majority, let the official record show that this committee has voted to commission six discovery class frigates and being the process of establishing a standing intergalactic navy.” There is a small smattering of applause from around the table. Neither Hill nor Fury moved.

“We will meet again in a few months time to discuss nominees for the admiralty and captaincies and finish approving the construction details. Please keep your eyes on your calendars for the scheduling information.” He nodded once and phased out of the room, each member vanishing from view as they shut down their hologram projectors.

Hill raised an eyebrow at Fury, tidying her careful notes.

“Hope you are ready for another war, Hill.” Fury said and without another word, phased out of the meeting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that we have the ship, we're gonna need a crew. Nick deals with more meetings and Hill makes some unpopular suggestions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise we do actually get the boys soon.

Nick Fury was starting to get really tired of this hologram meeting bullshit. He was so much more intimidating in face to face meetings. He rubbed a hand tiredly over his good eye making no attempt to hide his frustration from the room at large. Beside him, the ever-present Maria Hill shifted through her papers quietly, letting out a small sigh. The hour recess granted to the committee was nearly up, but most of the members had not yet phased back into their seats, instead choosing to take another bathroom break or speak with like-minded council members on a private channel. One of the councilmen was clearly hitting on a younger staffer, who was doing everything she could not to roll her eyes. Nick could practically hear the creepy one liners and middle aged posturing from across the room. 

Nick Fury and Maria Hill were also speaking through a private audio connection, though their projections were already back in their spots around the digital conference table. Mostly it was quiet, but it provided an opportunity for actual work to get done.

“It’s good that we finished the construction logistics, even if we're slightly behind schedule.” She murmured. “Tokyo, San Francisco and New York. They’re smart choices for the first three shipyards. Defensible and close to major military operations. Not so close together to make them a single target. Good economic dispersion. We’re actually making pretty good time, all things considered.” She nodded to herself and hummed quietly. Nick nodded once, keeping his eyes focused on the slowly repopulating room, rather than looking over towards Maria. 

“You say that now, but the construction details were all but finished in the last committee meeting. Captain and crew selection, though has not even begun, and crew selection will be far, far worse.” He muttered, pushing the single paper he kept for notes around in front of him. Since he served with prestige in the intergalactic navy during the revolution, the committee had asked him to prepare a list of suggested crewmembers.

“We’re only doing the first three ships today.” Maria frowned. “And even then it’s only the essential positions; we just need to fill the main bridges so we can being properly recruiting people into the service. Division heads will fill in their own ranks; so we actually have a pretty short list of people to nominate into positions.” She said, shuffling through more lists of personnel information. 

“Tell me Hill, how many times have you read through those lists?” Nick asked, raising his eyebrow. “Have you picked your ideal crew?”

“This isn't fantasy football sir. Not about picking a perfect team. But yeah, I’ve read through them a fair few times.” Hill said. “I am sure I can come up with a set that works if I just have a little more time. Some combination of things has to work.” She said, turning back to her neatly scrawled notes. Nick eyed her skeptically. He’d seen her read through that list at least two dozen times since the meeting began. She heaved out a sigh. “So it’s not ideal. No matter what combination of people we use we don’t have enough military experience, we don’t have enough spacecraft experience, we don’t have enough of anything to be honest.” She said, waving her hand around in the air. “It’s like trying to play scrabble with nothing but consonants.” Another few seconds passed in frustrated silence. “I imagine you have pretty definite opinions on the matter. What does your list look like?” She asked. Nick calmly sent her a copy of his notes with a flick of his wrist. The digital sheet of paper materialized on Hill’s desk, obscuring her carefully crafted notes.

“This is best solution possible, given the current circumstances. Captaincy is a council nominated position and I am not going to play politics with a bunch of suits about good leadership. though I have a good guess who they’ll ask.” He said bitterly. Maria was quiet for a few minutes, scanning down the list. The wrinkles between her eyes deepened further the more she read.

“Nick…this is bullshit. Way too risky.” She said quietly. “They’ll never agree to this mixture of personalities. And some of your picks are unconventional, to say the least.” She raised an eyebrow. “Banner? And Stark? On the same ship? Are you trying to start a fight club?”She said voice low, but intense.

“You said it yourself Hill, there is no ideal solution. All I will say is that if we are going to get involved in this godforsaken war effort, we are going to need crews that will be effective above all else. And this crew will be, more or less, effective.” He explained calmly.

“Yeah, if they survive more than 30 minutes together in close quarters.” She responded as the room buzzed to life with projections. On their desks, a reminder message popped up, signaling the end of the break. The small window continued pinging until they had acknowledged it. Nick closed the private audio channel between him and Maria, though she continued to text him angry faces via their chat line. He turned off the notifications as the group settled back into their seats.

“Welcome back all.” Minister Blake said, huffing slightly as small conversations carried on despite his statement. “Excuse me, we must move forward with this meeting.” He insisted louder, the room finally quieting down. “While President Xavier would normally be present for these meetings, he decided to bow out after our morning session. As you are well aware we have finished the construction portion of our day. We must discuss who we will nominate for senior crewmembers for these three frigates. I am sure all of you read the dossiers distributed a few weeks ago.” He said as the other people in the room shifted around to find the information.

“The first order of business is, of course, the captain selection.” Blake continued. “We need three legitimate selections. Those picked by this committee will lead our fleet against the Mayall Empire, so think carefully about how to proceed here, council members. These lucky people must be the cream of the crop.” He smiled. “Are there any initial nominations?” He asked the floor. There was quiet murmuring around the room.

“I would like to put forward T’Challa.” A voice spoke up from the shadowy corner. It was the same women from the previous meeting, her third eye slowly flicking between council members.

“Of Wakanda’s former royal line?” Blake asked for clarification, brow furrowed in confusion. “Isn’t that potentially political suicide for an organization without any history? If he were to die in service of the Federation, would that not incur the wrath of the Wakandan people? Possibly alienating our primary source of vibranium? Councilman Palmer?” Blake continued. Palmer seemed unperturbed, simply nodding in response. 

“Yes, he is the very same. The effective Prince of Wakanda.” She paused for a moment. “I have spent many years as an ambassador to Wakanda, so I am familiar with the political landscape of his people. I do suppose there may be repercussions if he were indeed to fall in battle, however it would be considered an honorable death by his, and by my, people. I do not think these consequences, should they arise, would be serious enough to drastically affect trade. Not to mention, he displayed a special penchant for leadership during the revolution and this record from his service speaks for itself.” She said, clicking through her computer interface and projecting his battle statistics from the Terran Revolution for the entire room to see. Fury raised his eyebrow. T’Challa’s history was impressive to say the least. His enemy kill count was off the charts, while he only he lost a very small number of men under his command. Even Fury had to admit he had potential. 

“So we have heard the nomination for T’Challa. Excellent. Any others we would like to offer up?” Blake wrote down a large set of notes, scribbled quickly onto his pad.

“Ororo Munroe.” Nick ground out from the back of his throat. The room swiveled to turn and look at him as he spoke. Minister Blake leveled a steely gaze at Nick.

“Ms. Munroe?” Blake said questioningly. “What, pray tell are her qualifications?” He hissed through his teeth.

“She served on my ship during my time in space during the Terran Revolution.” Nick began to explain. “She was my navigator and a damn fine one at that. No one better at guiding a ship through complicated fields and uncharted territory. You would do well to not ignore her. T’Challa is an excellent choice strategically; he is clearly a fantastic soldier. However, we cannot build an intergalactic naval force with only land battles and amateur astronauts in our ranks. We need to reinforce our crews with those that know spacecraft. She is the best in the business. Paired with a military trained second-in-command, she will do wonders for the fleet.” Nick said smoothly, choosing his words carefully. Many members of the room nodded their heads, writing notes down on their pads.

“Thank you Captain Fury.” Minister Blake said. “We have noted your nomination of Ororo Munroe. We need at least one more nomination before we can begin voting procedures.” He spoke. There was a lull, which created an awkward silence. The paucity of obvious candidates weighed heavily on the minds of those in the room. Many around the eerily large table began to glance between the people nearby hoping someone else would offer a different solution. 

Hill cleared her throat. “I nominate Captain Nick Fury.” She said, obstinately refusing to look over towards Nick. She quietly pushed a note towards him, causing it to materialize on his desk. He glanced down.

You’re right as always. The crew is a risk, but if it works, the reward will be worth it. The issue is leadership. The right leader will control the wildness of this crew and maintain order. You are the only person I can think of, so if this crew is going to exist, you need to captain it.

Fury heaved an audible sigh, his one eye fluttering shut.

“Ms. Hill.” Minister Blake murmured. “We have not had the pleasure of hearing your lovely voice yet in these meetings. Please, pray tell, why did you decide to speak up now?” He inclined his head with a small smile.

“I do not think that Captain Fury needs much defending, with all due respect sir. He is the only member of the active intergalactic navy from the revolution asked to serve on this council. He is considered the leading authority in the field of extraterrestrial armed combat and has a damn good service record to back his success. What more could the council ask for in a Captain?” She said in a clear, clipped voice. Many around the table began to nod. 

A few moments later, it was clear that no other candidates would be nominated and the room began to grow anxious and antsy. If they did not agree, or did not vote at all, they faced the reality of a protracted meeting with little to nothing to show for it.

“Then, on the matter of assigning our first three captains, we shall enter voting procedures. You will not be able to turn off your hologram projections or open private channels for the duration of voting procedures.” Blake recited in monotone. Many in the council shifted in order to become more comfortable. 

“The first voting procedure is to formally nominate T’Challa as a Captain in the United Federation of Earth’s intergalactic fleet.” He pressed a few buttons and the voting choices popped up for each individual. “Please select your choice and submit.”

Within a matter of minutes the committee had nominated all three of the proposed candidates. Their profiles and pictures floated over the table while the entire committee sat face to face with the consequences of their choices.

“Of course, all three candidates will need to be contacted and agree to the position. It is, for obvious reasons, not mandatory they accept. Luckily we have one of the recently confirmed candidates here tonight.” Blake gestured toward Fury. “Perhaps, Captain Fury, you would like to give us an answer now? Of course, if you are not comfortable you do not need to answer immediately.” He said with a placid smile. Fury knew that Blake expected him to avoid giving a concrete answer, take time to find a way out of this new command. However, Fury lived to piss off people like Edward Blake. 

“I will accept the Captaincy on one condition.” Nick Fury said. “I want first pick of the crew for my bridge. I will submit a list to you for approval later today and then confirm with each member of my crew myself.” He said, crossing his arms. It was not an unreasonable request, however it would certainly frustrate many on the council. 

“That seems reasonable.” Minister Blake said nodding. “I think we can accommodate that. For the record, will you accept the Captaincy?” He asked, voice somewhat incredulous. 

“Actually I have one more request. Well, two really.” He said, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table. The room began to chat quietly, wondering how far the power play between Blake and Fury would go on.

“Yes?” The Minister of War inquired, voice low.

“Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes.” Fury said simply. He sat back in his chair, curious if any of those present would recognize those names. 

“Are those crew members you wish to recruit?” Blake asked, frowning.

“Not exactly.” Fury explained. “Unfortunately neither of them can be recruited through normal channels. Rogers already works for the government in an essential position and Barnes is not fit for active duty since he was previously honorably discharged from military service for medical reasons. However, I want them both brought on as special consultants for the duration of this armed conflict. They are essential parts of my bridge crew. Contingent on their acceptance, of course.” He said briefly.

“We cannot force service on anybody.” Blake reminded him, face wrinkled in confusion.

“I am aware, Minister. However, this is merely a request to offer them both positions as consultants aboard the ship under my command. I will contact them myself as I am sure I can persuade them to participate.” Fury gave a small shrug, sitting back in his chair and inviting no further conversation.

“As this is certainly not standard practice, I feel like this is a request beyond the limits of my power as the chair for this committee; we will need to vote on the matter.I would like to conduct a survey of the committee.” Blake said. “Please indicate on the form in front of you if you agree to the conditions presented by Captain Fury.” The attendees submitted their answers reasonably quickly.

“Congratulations Captain Fury. You are now the proud captain of a soon to be built discovery class frigate.” Blake said, rising from his chair. “I wish you luck on your recruitment efforts. As for the rest of you, we will reconvene once the Captain’s offers have been made and the candidates have responded. At that time, we will confirm their acceptance or deal with their refusal to participate in this effort. Thank you all for your patience.” And with that Blake disappeared, blue digital lines fading into blackness. The rest of the committee members shuffled around, saying their goodbyes and one by one, vanishing into the black void. From across the room, Anthony Stark bit his lip, deep in thought. He glanced toward Fury before shaking his head and disconnecting from the meeting space.

Maria turned to Fury. “So back at it again Fury?” She asked, a smile quirking her lips.

He answered with a shrug. “It was a bold move, Hill. I am pretty pissed off about what you did, so don’t think I will let you off lightly. As penance for your impertinence, you will be my second in command.” He told her. If Hill had not known Fury for nearly 10 years, she might mistake his cold expression as indifference. However, she understood enough of the nuances in his face to catch the small glimmer of amusement in his eye.

“I would be honored to go to war once again at your side.” She said, giving him a crooked half smile of her own. “There’s just one thing I don’t get.” She said, starting to reorganize her papers. “Why Rogers and Barnes?”

Nick paused for a moment before answering. “Do you know who they are, either of them?” He asked.

“Yes- I am familiar with both. Steven Grant Rogers was one of the greatest success stories from the augmented soldiers program the military ran during the Terran Revolution, right?” She began and Fury nodded. “He is not only a brilliant soldier during battle but he is a tactical mastermind, at least on land.” She said, trailing off.

“I can hear the hesitation in your voice, Hill. Tell me.” He said, plainly.

“He’s a, well I guess the term would be a warhawk, sir.” She said, voice harsh. “He craves battle and chases conflict. He is infamous in the Federation of Earth’s central government offices, in Tokyo, for his passionate speeches and, at least according to the gossip, legendary bloodlust.” She paused for a moment. “For all of your talk about not risking lives unnecessarily and considering seriously the responsibility placed on our shoulders, he seems an oddly violent choice, sir.” She finished speaking, waiting expectantly for Fury’s response. 

“You are not wrong, Maria.” He began. “But we will need his mind for strategy in the battles to come. He may or may not run on pure emotion, but I am still the Captain. We need his mind, even if his spirit may encourage bad behaviors. I will simply have to keep his more… unsavory tendencies in check, if they happen to surface.” He said, waving a hand in a small gesture.

“I think I understand.” Maria nodded slowly. “But he is still going on my watch list.” She said, writing something down quickly in front of her. “And Barnes was a Terran soldier. Kidnapped. Spent a long time as a prisoner of war with the Mayallian forces. Ended up getting stockholm-syndromed into becoming a long-range weapon specialist for them. Assassinations, scare tactics, strategic destruction, you name if he participated in it. After his escape back to federation hands, he did a total turn around. Though he is extremely knowledgeable about the Mayallian fleet and tactics, he also has a recent history of anti-war advocacy, vocal anti-war advocacy. What makes you think he will even accept a position on a military vessel?” She asked, face open with genuine curiosity. 

“Barnes may seem like a hippie, and he genuinely is more or less a tree hugger, but he was badly damaged, down to the core of his being, by these people. He definitely will want revenge of some sort and I can exploit that emotional loophole to gain his knowledge. He speaks fluently in the Mayall languages, zero accent, perfect dialect and knows their customs and practices, including their torture techniques and holding locations. More importantly, he has done extensive studies of Mayall shipbuilding and their fleet at large. If we want to make real progress and hit them where it hurts, we need as much support from someone like Barnes as possible. What he can offer us is… unique to say the least.” He said, moving to stand up and end his projection session.

“I understand your motivations for both of them individually, but together? Don’t you think that is asking for trouble? A warhawk and a pacifist?” She asked, an eyebrow raised. “They are probably going to hate each other at best, and a case of attempted murder certainly wouldn’t surprise me.” She said with a small chuckle. “Though to be fair, you could say that about most of the crew.” 

“I guess we'll just have to wait and see, Hill. It will all come clear in good time.” Fury said with a small smile and phased out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The United Federation of Earth Frigate Avenger is on her way for her first voyage. However, before we can launch, the crew needs to pass one last physical. 
> 
> Preferably without anyone getting into a fist fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here there be medical talk and discussion of traumatic injuries and lasting mental/physical trauma. Nothing graphic, but it is there.

“Percentage-wise, how screwed are we?” Hill asked. Her eyes slid to Nick Fury. Her left hand was covered in a thin metal skeleton, standard issue for all United Federation of Earth combat units. The silver wires running along her fingers glowed a light blue, connecting her to the intraweb, the internal computer system of the UFE. Nearly every person in the shipyard wore some version of the device. Though officially they were called Haptic Computing Interface Exoskeletons, most people referred to them simply as haptics. The blue glow flowed out of her hand and projected a digital screen in the air in front of her. Her fingers played a steady rhythm across the glowing blue surface, keeping pace with work even while maintaining a conversation. 

“This team is handpicked.” Nick muttered. “By me.” His eyebrow twitched slightly. “They will not fail.” They two stood at the loading dock, waiting for the bridge crew to report for duty. Normally the top officers would arrive first, allowing for leadership to settle into quarters before the rest of the ship’s crew arrived. However, due to the unique nature of the team, Fury had decided to bring on the majority of the crew first, saving his bridge crew for the end. He thought it might be better for everyone else to already be in place before the entire ship went to hell in a handbasket.

“So are you like, 50/50 on this?” Hill asked without emotion.

“Probably more like 30/70. Against.” Nick admitted, face pulled down into a frown. Eyes scanning the crowd. Even though the ship was complete, the shipyard was still bustling. While finishing touches went into construction, crews also loaded supplies into critical areas, ammunitions, emergency food supplies and medbay.

Maria shot Nick an incredulous glance as the communicator in her ear fuzzed to life. “Area 538 completed.” Her fingers flicked through a few screens on her console checklists and floor plans fading in and out of the air in front of her. 

“Alright.” She began, flicking check marks into a few boxes on a list. “Medbay is set up for the arrival of the senior medical staff. The crew needs its preflight physical evaluations. They can begin as soon as our chief medical staff arrives. Since we delayed our senior officers the physicals are already behind schedule. If we want to get out on time we are going to have to haul ass through pre-flight prep.” She muttered, fingers flicking impatiently through her digital presence. 

“I wouldn’t spend time worrying about Dr. Cho.” Nick said, raising a hand in greeting toward the far side of the loading dock. “She is right on time. As expected” He gave a small smile to the two women striding across the tarmac, steps perfectly in sync. Maria glanced up, humming in acknowledgement. A few more flicks of the wrist and she was looking at a staff roster. She tapped the boxes for Helen Cho and Claire Temple, clearing the senior medical staff. 

“I known Helen from outside the military.” Nick said, “I asked her to arrive earlier than planned so that her team can get started. Unless I miss my guess she already has a handle on the physical evaluations.” Nick gave Maria a meaningful glance. 

“Captain Fury.” Helen Cho said, finally within speaking distance. “And you must be Maria Hill.” She said, extending her hand. Though she was petite, her firm grip and unwavering gaze settled Maria’s worries. 

“Dr. Cho.” She greeted in turn, shaking her hand. “We are glad to have you aboard as our Chief Medical Officer. And you as well, Head Nurse Temple. Your previous experience serving in space combat during the revolution will be invaluable to this crew.” She said evenly, turning her attention to the other woman. 

“Can’t say I wasn’t expecting the summons.” She said with a wry smile. “But I am glad to be of help. Besides it’s an honor to serve with Dr. Cho.” She continued. 

“Nick, we need to set up shop. I coordinated ahead of time with the medical crew already aboard. I made sure they set up to begin the physicals before we arrived, so we will get started on those immediately.” She said, using her own hand interface to open a panel in front of her. With a fluid motion, she moved a set of files from her own database into Maria’s screen. “These will update as we complete the crew evaluations and will show any major issues we encounter in our check ups. Since we have an entirely new force, all of those recruited have already had a physical in the past 6 months so I do not foresee any problems. We are merely checking. I have already flagged concerning files and will see those people personally.” She continued, extinguishing her screen and adjusting the small bag on her shoulder. “If you don’t mind, we need to get started with our duties.” She said, smiling primly. 

“Of course. Thank you for your preparation and welcome aboard.” Hill smiled, waving them toward the transporters that would bring them to medbay. 

“Helen. I know this is unorthodox but please make the senior crew a priority. We cannot leave until all of the senior staff is clearly for duty and many of them are unusually difficult patients.” He said as the two women walked towards the glowing pads on the ground. 

“Yes Captain.” Dr. Cho said with a small smile. “I have delegated out tasks so that Claire should be able to take care of the senior staff while I deal with concerning individuals and other doctors on our team handle the bulk of the crew. It will all be fine, Nick.” She said and stepped onto the metal circle, activating the transporter that would bring her aboard the ship. With a low hum she dissolved into a fine purple haze and then nothing. 

Claire also stepped toward one of the open pads. “The top portion of the list, labeled priority one, will have the names of anyone who needs to be cleared before we can leave port. Check there for updates over time. Dr. Cho knows that we need to depart by the end of the day, and we plan on meeting that deadline.” She said with a curt nod as she stepped toward the transporters. “Captain, Commander.” She smiled at Nick and Maria in turn and stepped onto the transporter. In a second, she too was gone. 

Maria opened the folder in front of her, glowing lists populating in the air. She scanned through the names quickly. “It’s a big crew Nick- 467 all together.” She said, scrolling through the list. “Hopefully their work will match up to our timetable.” 

“It is wise, Maria, to not underestimate Helen Cho, especially when she is on a deadline.” Nick said, raising an eyebrow. “Now we just have to wait for the rest of our bridge crew.” He said in a monotone. 

“They aren’t supposed to arrive for another hour.” She said, shrugging. “We will just have to handle them as they arrive. Besides, all we need to do is get them to medbay for their check ups. Socializing can wait until we are in the ether.” She said, waving her hand towards the infinite blackness of space, just visible beyond the ship.

“Your optimism is either impressive or worrying.” He replied, eyes focused on the entrance to the loading dock, several hundred feet away. “Besides, I don’t think we will be waiting an hour for them to show up.” He said as a dog ran straight towards them, tongue lolling and ears flapping. 

“Aw, Lucky, no!” A voice whined above the noise of the shipyard. 

Nick sighed. 

______________________________________________________________________

 

Claire Temple had set up a station slightly apart from the rest of the doctors, in medbay 2. According to Nick Fury, the senior crew, including all bridge crew members, needed to be checked before the ship could leave port. She would be the one doing each of these checks. IT should streamline and speed up the process. When Dr. Cho first proposed this arrangement, it seemed superfluous to set aside an entire station for senior crew alone. However, after reviewing their files, it immediately became clear why the needed their own dedicated medical evaluation station. This group came with a wide variety of medical challenges. 

She walked towards the far wall of the room and used her haptic to bring up their files shared from Dr. Cho’s private digital storage. Placing her left hand on a wall in front of her, a large screen populated beneath her palm, digital blue script fading into existence on a black background. She pulled her hand away, guiding her palm so the blue trails attaching her hand to the wall created a right angle, drawing out a long screen from the wall. With a twisting motion, she cut off the blue trails and the lines solidified into a console, creating a digital display hanging in the air in front of her chest. With a few more motions, she projected digital models of the body and spread out patient data in front of her. She set out her 14 patient files in front of her, each in its own digital folder.

She could see the names of the files as she organized them alphabetically for easy access as they arrived. Fury and Hill had been checked at the station, so she slipped those files back into digital storage with a flick of her hand, making sure they were also marked as finished on the list on the wall projection. Checking her work one last time, she read through the names: Banner, Barnes, Barton, Maximoff, Odinson, Parker, Potts, Rogers, Romanov, Stark, Wilson S., Wilson W.. Normally, a group of this size would be a light load, however 7 of the 12 files on the table had serious medical condition flags in the file code and eight of the files had psychological review codes attached. 

She made a quick list of the affected files and made a note on a digital pad to her left. She would need to forward the completed medical reviews for the crew members on that list to Sam Wilson, the ship’s counselor so he could perform his own psychological evaluations as the ship set it’s course. As she was finishing up the list a light knock sounded at the door. 

“Hello.” She said, smiling as she looked up. “I am Lieutenant Claire Temple, the head nurse. Please, come in.” She said, gesturing toward the examination table, a black slab folded down from the wall. 

“Don’t mind if I do!” The man standing at the door smiled, bouncing towards the table. “Clint Barton, by the way.” He said, levering himself onto the table. Claire moved the file for Barton towards the center of her digital workspace. She glanced back at the door and saw another figure in the shadow of the entrance. 

“Nice to meet you Lieutenant Barton.” She said, nodding. Another small movement in the doorway caught her attention. “Oh, I’m sorry, I am currently with a patient but if you wait outside I will be with you in just a minute.” She said, smiling pleasantly. Clint twisted on the table, waving his fingers at the visitor. 

“That’s Nat, uh, I mean, that’s Natasha Romanov.” He said as Claire looked between the two. The woman in the door made no move to leave the space nor did she acknowledge the nurse. 

“It’s fine with me if she’s here. She probably knows my medical history better than I do.” He said with a chuckle. Claire nodded doing her best to not roll her eyes, she focused instead on tying her thick hair up in a tight bun. Dr. Cho had warned her about the rather interesting personnel that made up the central crew members. Clearly the warnings were merited. 

“In that case, please have a seat.” She said, as she pushed the rolling stool out from the corner of the room. Claire hardly used the chairs anyway, preferring to stand while interacting with patients. 

“Thank you.” Natasha said, moving into the room. She sat, watching Claire with hawlike intensity. Claire opened the file and began to scan the pages. 

“When was your last physical?” She asked conversationally, glancing up at Clint. His file bore both the physical trauma and mental trauma markers. With a flick of the wrist, the rest of the files on the desk folded away into digital space and Clint Barton’s profile spread out in front of her.   
Originally a sniper, he now dealt with weapons and armament. A real solider then, she thought to herself. Glancing toward the glowing red boxes, she processed she glanced up sharply. 

“Oh, like, two months ago?” He said, scratching his head. “They see me every six months minimum because I tend to get injured and have a bad past of lettings things heal wrong.” He said with a nervous chuckle. “Not that you need to worry about that, I promise I will come in, Doc.” He continued. 

“I’m actually the head nurse. But you can just call me Claire.” She said with a smile, observing carefully. “Are you lipreading?” She asked, incredulously. 

“Oh. Wow.” He said, embarrassed. “No, I mean, I can read lips and sometimes I do, but no, not right now.” He said reaching up to point into his ear. Along with the haptics, every recruit received an earpiece used for communication. The small bud sealed itself into the ear canal, a semi permanent implant. 

“Do you mind?” Claire asked carefully, picking up her medical scanner off of the tray to her left. Clint nodded as she walked through her digital projection and up the the table. Running the scanner beside the ear, she heard the familiar ding indicating that the earpiece was disengaged. Clint reached up and pulled the bud from his ear. 

Claire’s eyes widened. Normally ear prices were extremely thin, even smaller than a dime. This, however extended down into the ear canal, forming to his ear. 

“There she is!” Clint said smiling. Claire nodded, a blush spreading across her cheeks. 

“I will just do a scan of your hearing systems then.” She spoke loudly, with a gesture towards his ear. Clint’s smile faltered eyes sliding towards Natasha. Claire too turned her head to look and saw Natasha use quick sign language. 

“Sure thing doc!” He said, megawatt smile back in place. Claire nodded and began to scan over his head. Out of the corner of her eye she couldn't help but notice the darkening expression on Natasha’s face. Clearly she had transgressed some unspoken set of rules. 

Again, she found herself suppressing a sigh. This was going to be a long war.  
_______________________________________

Steven Grant Rogers- Strategic Consultant. 

Steve smiled at the digital name card beside his door. He squared his shoulders, feeling the stiff uniform fabric settle against his shoulders. The blue canvas jumpsuit was a steep departure from the flexible kevlar of land troops during the revolution. He was still adjusting to the entire premise of space travel, including the new uniform. 

To say the call from Nick about joining the new intergalactic navy was a surprise would be an understatement. Steve had never even considered the possibility that he would be asked to serve aboard a starship. He had wondered what role he would play in the war looming on the political horizon, but he had assumed that he would stay in New York, the capital of the United Federation of Earth, and continue his work as a lobbyist and political activist. Sure, he was well respected for his military service, but he was a land soldier, firmly based on Earth. When the call came, he jumped at the chance. He would never turn down the opportunity to serve his country. 

The door whooshed open and he walked into his new quarters. They were spacious, allowing for three separate rooms. The front room was a sitting room with an office tucked into the corner. A large, soft looking couch dominated much of the space. It was clean and tidy, but the small set of succulents on the coffee table added a nice, earthy touch. Steve slipped off his shoes, setting them by the door. He padded through the room, poking his head into the bedroom and then the bathroom. He grimaced slightly at the sonic shower. Water was a precious resource aboard ships such as these, but he would seriously miss taking a hot shower after a long day in the war room, or rather on the bridge. Steve shook his head. He had so much to learn about working aboard a spaceship.

He turned back towards the bedroom. His personal items were transported aboard ahead of him, so he had a few hours of unpacking to look forward to as he settled into his new space. However, as he moved back towards the bedroom, he head the tell tale ping of a new message. Using his haptic, he placed his first two fingers together and pressed them into his thumb. He spread them apart again, a digital screen materializing in the space between. A red flag flashed in the corner and then materialized into a message. He scanned it quickly and turned towards the door. 

The summons for his physical told him to report to medbay 2. He shoved his feet back into his shoes and walked out of his room, looking left and right before referring to his map. Without looking up, he turned left and began to walk quickly down the hall. 

_____________________________________________________________

 

Claire breathed slowly out through her nose; keeping your cool was part of being a good nurse, and Claire was a good damn nurse. Natasha sat on the examination table. Her entire posture screamed danger, like a cat ready to pounce. Except there was no mouse and Claire just needed to finish her damn medical review so that they could take off on time. 

“Commander Romanov.” Claire began again, “I just need you to confirm. Other than the bullet to your left hip, you have not had any other traumatic injuries in the last 5 years.” She said voice even. 

“Can’t see why it would matter.” She gritted out through her teeth. 

“As I’ve already explained, we need to know what to look out for in the instance of a traumatic injury.” Claire responded. “You haven’t had a physical in a full year. We could just scan your body through and get the information that way, but this is generally considered more polite.” She continued. 

“Scan away.” Natasha growled. 

“Tasha just answer the question.” Clint whined from the chair against the wall. “ She’s being really nice to you. Besides I wanna get back to my room so I can play with Lucky.” 

“Fine. Stab wound to my upper left thigh, 14 stitches, torn ACL. Four broken ribs, all different instances. Three concussions, nonconsecutive.” She rattled off. Claire wrote quickly, copying down new information into her file and confirming what was already there. “None are still causing me any issues.” 

“Do you often get injured during your duties?” Claire asked good naturedly; it was a question on the checklist- required for anyone with serious work related injuries in large quantities. 

“Considering I am the head of security for this ship, you could say that work related injuries are pretty common in my field.” She said, frowning. A swing and a miss, Claire thought, struggling to keep her face neutral. 

“Alright. Thank you for your cooperation.” Claire said smiling. She ran her fingers over the digital files spread out in front of her gathering their glowing blue outlines back together. Sure, all of this could be done without the pretense of physicality but Claire liked the process of taking apart a file, seeing the components spread out and then closing the file with a sense of finality. 

Natasha sighed and hopped off the table, stretching her back. She had the top half of her canvas jumpsuit unbuttoned and pulled off, the sleeves tied so they didn't swing as she moved. She wore the standard issue spandex undershirt with the sleeves rolled up. 

“Just as an FYI- because of markers in your files I am obligated to send both of your medical evaluations to the ship’s counselor, Samuel Wilson. He should be in touch soon regarding ongoing mental health care aboard this ship.” She said, firmly but without anger. 

“It's nothing Sam doesn't know anyway.” Clint huffed, standing up from his chair. 

“If you have a personal relationship with Lieutenant Commander Wilson perhaps you would prefer that I refer you directly to one of his staff members, rather than him.” Claire said, re-opening Clint’s file to jot down the note. 

“No, no. Both ‘Tasha and I have served with him before. He knows us both through his profession first and foremost.” Clint continued. Claire paused then continued to type in her note, sending a copy to Natasha’s file as well. 

“You are both all set. Please report back to your quarters until we begin launch proceedings.” Claire said with a tight smile. Natasha snorted and walked towards the door. 

“Thanks doc!” Clint called on his way out. 

“Nurse…” Claire muttered under her breath. She pushed the last items off her workstation and looked up as another person walked into the room. 

_______________________________

 

Steve breathed a sigh of relief as he walked through the glass sliding doors. The waiting room at medbay was full of fresh faced young soldiers; some seemed relaxed while others shifted anxiously waiting for the confirmation that they could serve. Steve remembered all too well the fear of not passing muster due to health concerns. He frowned at how crowded the front desk was, however before he could get into line with the others, a young orderly waved a hand in his direction. 

“Captain Rogers” He started, getting his attention. “You will be seen by Nurse Temple in the adjacent suite.” He continued, speaking over the crowed. Steve glanced down at his map again and sure enough, he was standing in Medbay 1 rather than Medbay 2. 

“Sorry! I must have missed the door.” He said sheepishly, turning back towards the entrance. He noticed more eyes following his departure and a blush spread across his cheeks. The orderly nodded to the left as Steve turned around at the door. With a nod, he walked back into the hallway. In New York, his war hero and celebrity status was old news. People expected him to be there to do his job and the novelty wore off for his co workers. However, on this ship, he was surrounded by young soldiers, eager to follow his legacy. Steve was going to have to adjust to the quiet stares and whispered conversations.

He found medbay 2 through a much smaller entrance down the hall slightly. He walked in and found himself in a waiting room that was more of a hallway. A chair sat against a wall but there was no door into the medical suite. The woman standing in the center of the office was organizing her files on a digital projection modeled to look like desk. He raised an eyebrow, impressed. It took significant dexterity to build something that detailed with the haptics much less maintain control while the user moved their haptic around. 

He cleared his throat and the woman looked up. 

“Hello, sir.” She said, shifting files on the desk in front of her. “I am the head nurse, Lieutenant Claire Temple.” She said, moving through the desk projection to shake his hand. Her wavy brown hair was tangled on top of her head and though her handshake was firm, her eyes were kind. Steve let out a breath he was holding in. His experience with doctors was not always the best, but she had a quiet, trustworthy quality to her that drew Steve in. 

 

“Lieutenant.” He said, nodding his head. “Captain Steve Rogers, reporting for my physical.” He said moving towards the examination table. Claire pulled a file from the desk in front of her and flipped it open, frowning slightly. 

“Please, Captain, have a seat.” She smiled up at him and then returned her gaze to the file in front of her. Steve began to shift uncomfortably in the silence. “I apologize for the delay, sir, your file is” she paused for a moment, “unusual.” She said, finally looking up at him. “And quite thick too boot.” She said. “But not to worry, your last physical was only a month ago so this should be quick and painless.” 

“Sounds good to me.” Steve said with a chuckle. “I can tell you my stats still match my last physical. It’s a feature of the enhanced combatant program trials I was a part of, I’m pretty aware of my body’s levels .” He said, though the information would be in his medical file anyway. 

“I have to say, it is highly unusual to see this trial in a current file.” She said, a touch to the wall revealed a few medical tools in a decontamination slot that slid out from the wall on a tray. She picked up a round, black object and walked toward Steve. “I did my graduate research in augmented human trial medical care.” She said, with a touch of embarrassment. “I apologize if that makes this awkward.” She activated the scanner, holding it in her haptic. The small orb glowed with a pulsing light as she moved her hand near his body in careful patterns. 

“Not at all, ma’am. Means I have to explain less.” He said, returning her small smile. 

“Also means I believe you when you say your stats are consistent.” She said with a wink, walking back to her station. She returned the scanner to its position on the tray, tapping the wall again. The tools merged back into the wall, the seam invisible to the naked eye. Claire tapped a few places on her projected desk, looking through a few different charts. “Honestly, everything from the scan seems to be within normal ranges according to your file. I don’t see anything that stops me from signing you off, so I’m going to make a call and send you to your duties, Captain.” She said with a smile, closing his file and opening a list of names. She checked the a box on the list before closing it. 

“Thanks a million Nurse Temple.” He said, hopping off the table. “I hope I’ll see you around the ship.” He said with a megawatt smile. She rolled her eyes and gestured towards the door. Steve walked towards the exit, practically vibrating with excitement. Just as he made it to the hallway back into the main corridor, he turned around, walking backwards. 

“Thanks again Nurse Temple and good lu… ooomph!” Steve hit a solid object with his back, feet getting caught up with each other. With a manly yelp, all 220 pounds of Captain Steven Rogers fell backwards onto an unsuspecting subject. 

______________________________________________________

 

Bucky sighed in frustration. He had spent years living on starships, sneaking into and out of every type of spacecraft imaginable. Sure, he didn’t remember most of it, and what he did remember was deeply embedded in traumatic memories, but still, you’d think he could at least follow a map to medbay. 

He glanced at a wall. He was at the purser’s store. Looking at the map again, he flipped it around a few times. Yes! He thought, running his flesh and blood hand through his hair. If he was finally reading his map right, he was very close to medbay. 

He had arrived towards the end of the planned boarding time; he had spent thirty minutes standing in front of the station questioning every decision that brought him out of his tiny, familiar apartment and back to the dangerous, horrific world of intergalactic war. He had spent a good portion of that time planning increasingly flamboyant ways to dispose of Nick Fury’s corpse. 

However, he remembered the look on Hill’s face as she explained the situation. Though Bucky vehemently opposed war, he would be here as a consultant to help prevent others from ending up in his situation. Even though he had been kidnapped and brainwashed many years ago during the Revolution, the practice was becoming more and more common in intergalactic space. If he could help rescue those taken and prevent more from experiencing it, then this was where be belonged. Even if he hated it. 

His little mental breakdown outside the station meant he had to run to catch the end of the arrival window, waving at Fury as he skittered onto a transport pad. By the time he got to his rooms, he was already on his third reminder about his physical. Without any more time to think about the choices he was making, Bucky grabbed the memory chip of information on his cybernetic prosthetic and ran out of the door. 

45 minutes later, he had received another four reminders about his tardiness. Making a great first impression, Barnes, he thought to himself. He continued to walk down the hall, plotting his course against the outline of the ship. If he had finally gotten this right and the map was correct, then medbay should be the next door on his right… 

He turned down a narrow hallway, eyes still glued to the map. With a start, he ran straight into the back of a large man. As if in slow motion, Bucky felt his feet slide out from under him and then he was on the ground, breath knocked out of him by the bodybuilder that had landed on his chest. 

The other man scrambled to get up and backed a few steps away from Bucky. For his part, Bucky planted his metal hand on the ground and pushed himself up to sitting, gasping for breath slightly. 

“I am so so sorry.” The man said in front of him. His face was the picture of concern, brow furrowed and blond bangs falling into his eyes. The guy looked like he was sculpted out of marble, even under their stupid standard issue canvas uniforms. To be fair, it felt a little like he weighed as much as a marble slab too. Bucky finally gained control of his breathing and levered himself up to standing. 

“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Bucky said, metal hand checking to make sure his man-bun was still firmly in place. 

“Well I was walking backwards, so maybe we can split the blame.” He said with a small smile and dear god if that wasn’t endearing. 

“Such a gentleman” Bucky responded with a small smile, the other man blushed down to his neck, and gave a small chuckle. If he was going to be stuck on this godforsaken tin can hurdling through outer space, at least he could get to know this person a little better. He was already late, though, and he could also see the nurse in the background. 

“Good thing we’re in medbay, so if there are any injuries, I’m sure our good nurse here will fix me right up.” Bucky said, pointing into the room. 

“Right, you probably want to get on with what you came here for.” He said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck and moving out of the way. Bucky walked past him, making eye contact as they passed close to each other. His blush intensified and Bucky thought maybe he could have some fun on this ship after all. He turned his attention into the room. 

“Hi ma’am, I am James Buchanan Barnes, Special Consultant.” He said, reaching out to shake her hand. She smiled and returned the favor. 

“Head Nurse Lieutenant Claire Temple.” She said, smiling at Bucky. The expression on her face turned to confusion though, as she looked over his shoulder. Bucky turned to look back and saw Steve, face no longer full of shy flirtation, glaring at Bucky. Without another word, he promptly turned and left the room. 

Bucky looked back to Claire who shrugged and shook her head. “Please have a seat Mr. Barnes.” She said, gesturing towards the table.

“I have the confidential file about my arm.” He said, holding out the memory card to Claire. 

“Oh excellent.” She said, taking the chip and talking to her work station. She pressed into the wall again and her tray of tools emerged, newly cleaned. In a spot next to the tray she pressed the chip into the wall, which seemed to give way and allow the chip inside. She flicked through the pages as they loaded. 

“This is not something they taught us about in nursing school.” She muttered, expanding a schematic of the shoulder joint. 

“Don’t worry- the guy who built it is also the chief engineer onboard this ship. Tony Stark.” Bucky said, still frowning and glancing towards the hallway. 

“Right. Then I will make sure to connect with him about best practices for your health care.” She said, making notes in her files. 

“Who was he anyway? Looked a little familiar.” Bucky said, looking into the hallway. 

“Captain Steven Rogers.” Claire answered easily, still shuffling through items about the arm. 

“No fucking way.” Bucky spat. “I knew I’d seen his face somewhere.” He said, face darkening. “It’s too bad. I suppose being attractive doesn’t mean you’re a good person.” Claire shot him a questioning look as she prepared several items on her tray. 

“He’s the kind of asshole who wants to go to war over nothing. Send people to their deaths in the name of global politics and dick measuring. No glory in diplomacy and all that shit. People like him are the reason I lost a limb. Like, what’s a little arm in exchange for service to king and country, right?” Bucky growled. “He pushed so hard for this war. You should have heard how he lobbied against re-negotiating treaties with the Mayallians and Andromeda. Nothing would do but more bloodshed. ” 

“That’s quite an accusation.” Claire said, without any emotion. “I’m sure he’s not all that bad.”

“I’ll tell you what he is,” Bucky said, crossing his arms, eye’s dark. “He’s a fucking warhawk.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ship launches, finally setting into motion Fury's experimental crew. He intends to give them a few days to settle in, but the war has other plans. 
> 
> Also Bucky comes to terms with Steve Roger's and the proximity of his desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We see the first bit of battle here.

The ship wide intercom blared to life, the hallway lighting shifting towards to a red glow. “Urgent Announcement. All crew prepare for immediate launch.” The lights returned to normal, however each person’s haptic continued to glow a faint red. 

In medbay, the teams of doctors finishing their final few physical exams continued to work diligently, eyes flickering towards the clocks on the wall. Helen Cho wrapped up her last patient and moved toward the medbay central command. All around her screens lit up with crew vitals and monitored conditions. She set her status to ready and settled in for takeoff. 

Bucky scrambled up from the floor of his room. After his physical exam he needed to decompress, so he had pulled out his yoga mat and started running through some of his standard recovery poses. The easy push and pull of his muscles gave him much needed peace of mind after the stress of his meeting with Steve Rogers. Even thinking about that war mongering prick made the hair on the back of Bucky’s neck stand up. 

Bucky shoved his feet back in his shoes and left his room in a rush. The entire ship was a buzz with people moving toward their stations for takeoff. Bucky’s quarters were with the rest of the senior crew, relatively close to the bridge. He fought his way towards central command against a tide of engineers and gunners moving in the opposite direction toward the the other end of the ship.

Bucky found himself getting lost in the crowd; he hadn’t been near this many people in a long time and though overwhelming, he still felt the familiar thrill of working with a team running through his veins. Slowly he began to grin, finally picking up his pace as he walked through the doors to the bridge of the ship.

Though the bridge crew was fairly small, the noise and movement within the small room were overwhelming. The front of the bridge was a large screen displaying the open expanse of space in front of them. The majority of the work stations faced towards this screen and spanned several tiers, creating a room that looked like a theater. Bucky nodded to Nick Fury who sat on the highest level, Maria Hill next to him. She was running through checklists as people settled into their stations. Bucky stepped aside from the door, opened up a screen with his haptic and checked the map included in his welcome packet. His work station was located two levels below Captain Fury’s own station at the command center on the top of the bridge. He started to make his way up towards his new workstation and froze when he caught sight of the person sharing his space. Of fucking course he would be in the same area as Rogers - they held the same position aboard the ship after all. Each level contained a long desk with two computer console stations, allowing for synchronized work between two people. Most of the seats were already full, the room abuzz with quiet conversation and the mechanical whirring of the computer system. 

Bucky climbed the risers towards his station quickly, giving Rogers a brief nod before settling down into his chair. He resolutely did not look up towards his new neighbor; he knew why he was here and for now, he needed to focus. Instead, Bucky laid the palm of his left hand down on the desk, the interface alighting under the touch of his metal hand. The lines of the metal plating on his prosthetic glowed blue, transferring into the console. Bucky’s profile bloomed to life below him, his notes and prepared materials settling out along his desk. He pulled his hand back, through the screen remained illuminated. He ran his flesh hand across his metal one; he did not wear a haptic, instead the technology was integrated into the existing prosthetic. Slowly, he rearranged the items on his desk, pulling to ship plan exteriors and quick translation manuals to the front of his workspace. 

“Crew is in place, sir.” Hill said, her voice echoing through the bridge. The quiet conversations died down as each person readied themselves for flight. 

“Alright.” Nick Fury said, “ Let’s start final checks.” Bucky twisted in his seat to look up towards the command console. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Steve Rogers doing the same. He found himself distracted for a second, remembering their run in earlier that day. In the bright light of the bridge, his face became even more striking. He looked like he walked off the cover of a fitness catalogue. BUcky was shaken out of his reverie by Nicky Fury’s gruff voice barking out commands. 

“Commander Cho, confirm medbay.” He said, the entire bridge eerily still. The confirmation rang back through his headset and he nodded towards Hill. Although the computer system kept track of those who had logged their status, the verbal acknowledgement was a second layer of added security. This was only the third of the six ships to be launched and there could be no errors. The first launch had nearly ended in disaster when the ship came unmoored too early, not giving the crew enough time to get into place before she started to veer into dead space. Luckily, the ship was recovered before any permanent damage was done, however there could not be another mistake with the UFF Avenger. 

“Lieutenant Commander Banner, confirm science laboratory.” Another voice crackled over the intercoms, presumably Banner. Bucky hadn’t met him yet, though he wondered what sort of scientist took a berth aboard a warship. 

“Commander Stark, confirm engineering.” Fury said. His tone was guarded but the response came through loud and clear. Stark- Tony Stark to be more specific, was a familiar name. Bucky turned away from Nick Fury and back towards his console. His eyes strayed to his prosthetic; the metal plates recalibrating in a smooth clicking motion. Certified StarkTec, the arm was his introduction to the fantastic, insane world of Tony Stark. Bucky heard early on in the news that Stark was involved in producing the frigates and they had discussed his progress while Bucky was receiving maintenance on his arm. In fact, the only reason Bucky could serve aboard this ship was the access to Stark. Bucky clicked through his menu, opening a chat channel and sending Tony a quick hello. 

“External divisions settled, bridge command check ins will now begin.” Nick Fury said. Next to him, Maria hit a complex series of buttons, turning her attention from her console towards the rest of the bridge. “Commander Romanov.” Fury said. 

“Security checks are complete, sir.” Again Bucky found himself twisting backwards to find the speaker. The level directly below the command center was occupied by two people. On the left there was the speaker, a petite redhead. Bucky made a mental note to look up her profile later. The head of security aboard a vessel like this is a significant honor, not an easy feat for anyone. 

“Lieutenant Barton.” Fury said, inclining his head to the right. The man next to Romanov startled in his chair. The desk was small enough that she was able to reach over and place a hand on his arm. It might have been a friendly comfort, but it could also might have been a vague threat, Bucky couldn’t quite be sure. 

“Right, yes, weapons are good to go.” He said, giving Fury a thumbs up. “Sir.” He added when he was met with the signature glower. Barton turned back towards his desk, missing the eye roll from Romanov. 

“Lieutenant Commander Potts.” Fury said, skipping over the row with Steve and Bucky and turning the attention of the crew towards the four people sitting in the front of the bridge. 

“Hailing frequencies are open and ship-wide communications are active, sir.” The woman who spoke was the furthest on the left. Her desk allowed her to twist around and address the bridge fully from any angle. The long ends of her ponytail flicked from side to side as she continued to work on her console. 

“Ensign Maximoff.” Fury said, eyes sliding to the opposite corner. Another round workstation mirrored Lieutenant Commander Potts position. 

“Translators are active, sir.” The woman sitting behind the desk ground out. She had long dark hair that obscured her face. Bucky’s head flicked up, body tending involuntarily. He would know that accent anywhere. He breathed in and out through his nose, calming his racing heart. He would know that accent anywhere. The unique gentle lilt was burned into his memory alongside indescribable pain and isolation. He couldn’t help but wonder why a born and bred Mayallian was aboard the ship. 

“Right, then we are flight ready.” Fury said, shaking Bucky out of his memories. There was a distinct shift in the room as people around him shifted in their seats. As he looked around he realized that people were strapping themselves into their seats, preparing for the launch. Bucky scrambled to secure the belts criss crossing his chest. 

“Alright. Ensign Parker, lay in a course towards sector 5.” Fury commanded, looking straight ahead into the black abyss in front of them. A young man in one of the two consoles directly at the front of the bridge began to tap rapid patterns into his console. He worked frantically, causing the curls in his hair to bounce ever so slightly. God, he was a kid, Bucky thought. If he’d seen him on the streets he might have guessed 17 or 18 but certainly not old enough to be navigating for a warship in intergalactic combat. 

“Course laid in, sir!” He squeaked from the console, whipping back around to face front. 

“Okay, Lieutenant Commander Wilson.” Fury said, heaving out a sigh along with his name. “Begin launch proceedings in 3… 2… 1…” Fury counted down as the pilot, sitting next to Parker, let out a gravelly laugh. The screen in front of him lit up, illuminating the scars littering his face. When Fury hit one, time seemed to stretch and stop. All at once Bucky felt as if his head were being compressed back into his skull while his spine was stretched across the entire length of the bridge. Bucky screwed his eyes shut, repeating again and again You are on the Avenger, You are sitting on the bridge, You are safe. As quickly as it came though, the sensation faded. Out the front window, you could see the bright patches of stars whirl by in the inky darkness. 

Bucky sat back in his seat for a moment, watching the universe move around him. He could hear the quiet buzz of an active flight bridge come to life, updates flooding in from various departments. He glanced to his right, expecting to see Rogers buried in his war documents. Instead he caught him looking straight ahead into the distance. His face was filled with childlike wonder, still in the same position from take off. Bucky slowly undid his restraints, focusing on his own work in front of him. Even as Bucky settled down to re-examine the structural plans of the Mayallian warships currently in circulation, he kept stealing furtive glances towards Rogers. He couldn’t help but find his enchantment endearing. 

With a scowl, he turned away from the scene next to him and opened his chat with Stark instead, hoping for a distraction. He had several messages waiting for him 

Stark_Tony: Yo yo yo how’s it going robocop?   
Stark_Tony: You gotta come down to the engine room sometime, she’s purring like fuckin’ kitten.   
Stark_Tony: But ur prolly too busy with the fancy bridge people.   
Stark_Tony: Kissing on Fury’s hairy ass. :P 

The last message came in as Bucky was scrolling through his messages feed. He quickly tapped into the field. 

Barnes_James: You know they monitor this shit, right? For like signs of mutiny or like insubordination.   
Barnes_James: Also the bridge is fine. Reminds me of all the other ships I’ve been on. I wonder if they used the same interior designer.   
Barnes_James: Also fuck yeah I wanna see the engine room! I’ve seen like literally every ship in the ether rn but I saw some leaked plans and I gotta see what you did, looked rad.   
Barnes_James: It’ll give me a good reason to escape from the dick measuring contest scheduled to start any minute now. My money's on the head of security. 

Bucky smiled to himself, clicking through the rest of his messages. Mostly just ship wide alerts and reminders about common space courtesy. It was like being in college again, getting emails about not jacking off in the shower since it clogs the drains. His messenger gace a quiet ping and he opened the conversation with Tony. 

Stark_Tony: Romanov? Yeah. She’s a safe bet. Tho there are some pretty big dicks up on the bridge. 

Bucky rolled his eyes. 

Barnes_James: Tell me about it. You met Rogers yet? 

He glanced to the side briefly. The asshole next to him had finally started to work, sifting through some ungodly long document on his console, brow furrowed in concentration. By the time he looked back, Tony had responded. 

Stark_Tony: Hell yeah. We worked together in New York developing the ships.   
Stark_Tony: So what has tall, blonde and principled done to get your panties in a twist? 

Bucky huffed in response, immediately opening the chat to respond. 

“Mr. Barnes, I do hope we are not interrupting your conversation.” Fury snapped from behind him. 

“No sir. Sorry sir.” Bucky answered sharply, closing out the chat window and turning around to face his commanding officer. He may not have served in the Terran military specifically but he was pretty sure ignoring or sassing a commanding officer was bad form. Especially not on the first day. 

“Please try and stay focused Barnes. I don’t expect any trouble this early on in flights but I need to know what we are looking for here.” Fury explained. Bucky looked up towards him. Rogers was also turned toward Fury, leveling Bucky a cold glare whenever their eyes met. 

“Well, it depends on how the Mayallians are approaching their defense of this sector.” Bucky turned back towards his desk briefly flipping over to a map overlaid with trade routes. “I definitely wouldn’t expect anything for a day or so, but this route is right along the eastern trade routes, so it definitely merits a certain level of caution…” Bucky continued, eager to prove his worth to the bridge crew and Fury. Before he could continue though, there was a small commotion at the front of the bridge. 

“Captain Fury.” Pepper Potts said, voice carrying above the noise of the bridge. “I’m picking up an incoming signal.” She said. The entire bridge fell silent, heads turning towards Pepper. 

“Do we have a visual yet?” Fury asked, voice calm. 

“Yes, it is coming up on screen now.” She said as a portion of the large window at the front of the room shifted to display the image of the oncoming vessels. Five ships moved in a contained pattern. Their sleek design flowed through space, slipping like water along the travel channels. 

“Have we identified them yet?” Fury turned towards Pepper, but glanced toward Bucky. 

“We haven’t been able to reach them through a hailing signal,” Pepper said, “but we will continue trying.” 

“They’re Mayallian, sir.” Bucky spoke up from his position. He had closed every page on his desktop except for the schematics of several ships. “Definitely.” 

“They’re projecting neutral status.” Pepper said, frowning at her screen. “No national government affiliation. More or less a white flag.” She continued. Bucky frowned. 

“With all due respect, sir, it’s a trap. I know the types of ships their merchants use. It is not these.” He said carefully. In the quiet in the room, someone cleared their throat. 

“I agree. These are no neutral merchants.” Wanda Maximoff said, her voice echoing in the space. Fury hummed in acknowledgement, eyes flicking between the various members of his bridge crew. Bucky paused for a moment, registering something familiar about her voice. 

“How long until we are in range?” Fury asked, turning his chair the left. 

“Ugh,” Clint Barton began, quickly shifting through several displays in front of him. “We’re looking at 30 minutes until contact. Luckily this stretch of background radiation makes for a clean highway, so we have plenty of warning, sir.” He scratched the back of his head. “Depends a little on what their fire power is, but they could be in range in as little as 20, 25 minutes?” He said, frowning while looking outwards. 

 

“What kind of specifications are we looking at?” Fury asked. 

“Not entirely sure.” Clint said. At the same time Bucky enlarged his schematics. 

“That is two sloops, two frigates and a ship of the line.” Bucky said drawing quick calculations in the air next to him. “Based on what I know about their most recent weapons development, we’re looking at a zero sum game.” He continued. “The frigates are a similar build to The Avenger, though individually they have slightly lower gun counts. The sloops though, they’re fast and will outpace us easily. The ship of the line could outgun us in one to one combat, much less supported by faster, more agile ships.” He continued, gesturing towards the image of the five ships. “Lieutenant Barton, I will send you the summary schematics we drew up before the mission.” Bucky easily flicked the documents in question over to Clint’s station. 

After a few moments of tense silence, Clint spoke. “Well, I think we could manage some damage, but it is extremely risky. I am with Barnes here, engaging in this fight is a death sentence.” 

“We can’t just turn tail and run.” Steve Rogers said, voice tight with anticipation. “We finally have a Navy. Sir, it is time to make a stand.” He said, turning towards Fury. The air in the room grew eve more tense as valuable seconds ticked by. 

“10 minutes until we are in range, sir.” Pepper said from the front of the bridge. 

“We can’t just play a game of intergalactic chicken, sir.” Hill ground out from beside him. Fury’s eyebrows drew together. 

“Wilson can we get around them in flight?” Fury asked, turning his attention to other solutions. From the front of the bridge, the pilot made a noncommittal noise. 

“With all due respect sir, we cannot back down now! It is cowardice!” Rogers said, frown deepening on his face. Bucky felt his stomach turn; this is exactly why he would never work with a warhawk. 

“With all due respect, Captain Rogers, we are not in a position to fight. We may look like cowards in this situation, but better be the cowards with 6 ships in their navy rather than the idiots who lost one of the ships within hours of launch.” He spat. “That is final. Wilson!” He barked.

“We can give it a shot sir, but the way they’re set up makes it difficult to get a ship of this size through the gap.” He said, voice gravelly as he opened up manual controls, the ship making a sharp lurch forward. 

“Do it Wilson. We need to get through this without engaging in battle.” Fury dictated, most of the bridge began to buckle into their seats. Bucky fixed his own safety belts and then he went back to analyzing the ship’s plans. If he could find a weakness, any weakness to exploit… 

“Sir.” A quiet voice broke through the other noise. 

“What is it Ensign Parker?” Fury asked, immediately picking up on the concern in the young man’s voice. 

“We have a serious problem sir.” Parker began. “The radiation stream can only handle so much disruption in a single area within a sustained period of time. We are in an extremely thin part of the stream, no stretch left.” He continued, focusing in on a small part of his screen and running through calculations faster than Bucky could even process the numbers he scrawled next to the map projections. 

“What does that mean Parker?” Fury barked, hands tightening on his command chair. 

“We are all held in the radiation stream by an internal force, if this is weakened enough we lose the glue, essentially, that holds us in place. We could end up completely crashing into the Mayallian ships or… ” He stumbled through the explanation, still crunching numbers. He trailed off at the end, brow furrowed in concentration. 

“Wilson is there anyway to pull back now?” Fury said, lurching forward in his seat. 

“At this point sir, not really.” The pilot said. “If we’re going to crash either way, may as well go for it.” He said, with a laugh and sped up the ship. Bucky braced on the desk. He glanced towards Steve. His expression as hard to read, somewhere between anger and fear. 

“Sir, there is another possibility…” Parker began to speak but before he could finish the ships finally came into contact. 

The pilot made an inhuman noise, hands flying at impossible speed across the controls. There was a moment when it seemed that the Avenger would end up crashing straight into the center of the Mayallian pod. They made no attempt to fire. Briefly, Bucky noted with detachment, it seemed that the Mayallian ships were trying to break rank, trying to scatter. Perhaps they also knew what was coming. 

Bucky’s spine felt as though it was being fused into the chair, the force of the evasive maneuvers forcing him back into his seat. His eyes flicked between the ships on screen. There was no way they were going to make it. The central pull into the radiation stream was too strong. Bucky blinked a few times, preparing himself for impact. 

With an impossible metal screeching noise, the ship lurched off to the left, spiraling away from the path of the other ships. One of the sloops made a horrifying lurch into the rest of the Mayallian fleet which also seemed to veer uncontrollably to the right side. For one sickening moment, the entire ship seemed weightless. The moment seemed to expand around him, taking up far more time than reality. He wondered how his family would take the news, killed aboard an intergalactic warship, the exact place he swore he would never find himself again. 

Dead aboard a ship... the one ship he actually chose to get on. He wasn’t sure if it was irony or just another stupid, shitty coincidence. 

In the next moment, the ship seemed to lurch upright, alarms ringing throughout the hull. 

“Damage report!” Fury shouted. 

“Hull damage minimal. Life support and ship integrity are sound. Nothing but a scratch.” Hill said beside him. There seemed to be a sigh of relief through the room. 

“End red alert.” Fury said and the endless red lights shut off. There was quiet again on the bridge. In the distance, Bucky could still make out the shapes of the five Mayall ships. They also had come to a complete stop, the enemy facing off across the void. 

“Ensign Parker, report.” Fury said quietly, eyes locked ahead of him. 

“Sir, as I said, there was another possibility.” Parker said. His voice shook and he was significantly paler than he’d been that morning. His fingers shook slightly as he drew lines across his map screen. “Rather than the force crashing the ships together…” He began, pausing for a breath. “We tore free of the radiation channel, so we can’t use that to power the ship’s main engines.” He said quietly. “It’s why the Mayallian’s haven’t moved either. They got blown out, just like us.” 

“Shit.” Bucky heard someone mutter in the quiet of the room as Parker continued to speak. 

“Captain Fury, sir, we’re in empty space. We’re in no man’s land.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the UFF Avenger unmoored in space, the crew must come together to get her moving before the enemy attacks. Bucky puts all of his knowledge to use while Steve stews about his own ability to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a battle known as the Great Escape. 
> 
> The thing they do with the beams is a real thing they did with anchors and row boats. It's called kedging and you should look it up.
> 
> Wow wow wow! Great art in this chapter from Hannah (tumblr: @sundaecherries) who was a crazy amazing pinch hitter for this fic! You're great! Check out that tumblr! 
> 
> Honestly I couldn't be more grateful, the art is perfect.

“Captain Fury, sir, we’re in empty space. We’re in no man’s land.” Peter’s voice sounded faint even though it was the only sound on the bridge. All at once, many people broke the silence, yelling into ear pieces and conferring with those around them. The general chaos rose to reflect the spike in anxiety in the room. 

“Alright people what are our options?” Fury barked from the command console, standing up and pacing across the space. 

“I have put out an immediate SOS signal.” Pepper shouted from the front of the bridge. 

“What are the chances of an actual rescue?” He shot back. 

“With the incident last week, our primary contacts are at least 12 hours from here.” Pepper said, calmly. “We are only a few hours from base, but there are not currently any intergalactic enabled vessels there big enough to make a difference in our predicament, according to the admiralty.” She continued. 

“Right, so no cavalry then.” Fury murmured. Behind the main console, Fury moved his left hand through the air with purpose, creating a digital screen. He put a hand to his ear and spoke quietly for a moment. Bucky twisted around fully to watch Fury move around the area behind his desk. He caught sight of Steve, sitting quietly. He looked lost, tapping gently against his console and staring absently towards the image of the Mayallian ships sitting in the distance. Almost as soon as Fury stopped speaking, the face of Tony Stark materialized on the screen. 

“Ah the bridge, what a sight for sore eyes.” Tony said, smiling. “Seems like we’ve gotten ourselves into a little pickle then, Fury.” 

“Cut the shit Stark. What are the options?” Fury huffed in response, turning away from the screen to look out into space. 

“Bad news is the engines are pretty much useless at this point. This ship requires a pretty monumental amount of radiation to keep her up and running, El Capitan, and the pittance we are picking up from this distance is barely enough to power a damn shuttle craft.” Stark said, pausing. “I suppose we could evacuate via shuttlecraft...” he said with a thoughtful look in his eyes. 

Bucky looked back at the front of the bridge, trying to wrap his head around the situation. 

“Keep working on it Stark. We need to get out of here ASAP.” Fury grumbled. Stark gave a half assed salute and the screen went blank. 

“Alright people- we need ideas. Get to brainstorming!” Fury shouted, brows drawn down into a deep furrow. 

Bucky took his orders to heart. He may not know much about how to get a ship moving again but he could at least provide information on how the enemy ships were likely to behave. He spread out blueprints for the five ships in front of him, expanding across the shared desk space. Steve glanced up at him. 

“Sorry.” Bucky muttered. He didn't make a move to actually move the documents back to his side, but Steve didn't seem upset. Instead, he moved slightly closer to Bucky, eyes scanning across the blueprints. Bucky couldn’t read his body language, but it wasn’t worth focusing on in the middle of an emergency.

“These are dealt detailed. How did we get plans like this for enemy ships?” Steve asked, eyes tracking across Bucky’s workspace. 

“I drew them.” Bucky said carefully, watching for Steve’s reaction. 

“You know a lot about these ships.” Steve muttered, fingers alighting over the plans for one of the sloops. 

“Spent a lot of time aboard them.” Bucky answered, maintaining careful composure. He met Steve's eyes over the plans, daring him to ask more questions. Steve though, just nodded his head, gaze returning to the desk, moving from the plans for the sloop towards the plans for the frigate. “This looks a lot like the ships we’re flying, right?” He asked, and Bucky nodded in response. They were silent for a few moments 

“I understand how to fight a war-” Steve began, almost speaking more to himself than Bucky, one hand still tracing the lines of the frigate. “But I am so out of my depth.” It seemed like Steve was speaking more to himself than to Bucky, so he didn’t bother to respond. Steve went back to the plan for the sloop, frowning. He glanced back and forth between the plan and the real life sloops floating in space. “How much radiation do these sloops need to run? The engine placement on the drawings looks different than in real life.” Steve asked, gesturing towards the complex engine structures on the diagrams. Bucky walked towards him, leaning over the plan.

“Shit.” He muttered under his breath. “I can't believe I didn't notice that.” Bucky also glanced back and forth from the plans to the view of the enemy. He sucked in a quick breath, letting it out slowly. “They've retrofit larger engine intakes onto those sloops.” Bucky said, voice rising with urgency. “Captain!” He said, loudly.

“What is it Barnes?” Fury called from above them, responding to the urgency in Bucky’s voice. 

“Sir, their sloops are speed enhanced- I mean, it’s massively irresponsible and they are probably going to suffer a massive engine collapse failure, but if they can function with those jerry-rigged engines… Point is, sir, those sloops will be running far, far before us. Assuming we wait for enough fringe radiation to build up in our engine intakes to power our ship, I can guarantee they will be moving hours before we are ready, sir.” Bucky stammered out, overlaying the new design on top of the plans. 

“They can't take the ship at this stage, sir. It would be a tactical disaster for the war effort. We should prepare battlestations.” Steve spoke up from beside Bucky.

“Rogers, I thought I made it clear- we will not engage five enemy combatants this early.” Fury growled, leaning forward on his console. “That is how this mission ends in disaster.” 

“With all due respect sir, it looks like we may not have a choice.” Steve muttered, turning back to his station. “We should be prepared for the eventuality.” 

Bucky watched him for a moment, eventually forcing his gaze down to his computer. He wrote a stream of complex math down the side of his console, left hand flying through plans and previously scribbled notes. He pulled open a private comm, tapping against his earpiece once to link the comm. 

“Tony.” He said, hailing Stark’s frequency. “Tony, I need your help.” Bucky said quickly, still working through increasingly complex calculations. 

“What’s up Buckarino?” Tony’s cheery voice answered. 

“Tony-” Bucky began. “Tony, they’ve taken a fucking Barque grade radiation intake and like, I don’t fucking know, duct taped it to those damn sloops.” He muttered. 

“Don’t be stupid Buck, that is like a 50/50 chance for total implosion.” Tony laughed through the device. Bucky waited for a few moments, but he could hear Tony working on his side of the exchange. “I’m looking at them right now.” Tony said after a few moment, “Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Do they have a death wish?” 

“Doesn’t matter Tony, either they have a death wish or we do because if we’re not moving like, ten fucking minutes ago, we’re dead.” Bucky stopped writing and glanced over the numbers. “I’m sending you some calculations.” Using his left hand, Bucky grouped all of the writing from the right side of desk into a single file and, with a flick of his wrist, sent it to Tony. 

“Mmmm.” Tony hummed over the connection. “I mean, these certainly look correct, but what do you want me to do?” Tony asked. There were some mechanical clicks and metallic clunks filtering through the connection. “Yeah, I mean, we’re screwed.” He said, bluntly. “We’ve built up enough radiation to power a granny scooter. Normally on a mission like this, you build up a nice grimey coating of radiation over time, so if you do get knocked for a loop out of the radiation streams you have enough to at least scrape back onto the path. We only launched a few hours ago, and we have a fairly high processing level, so we have zero build up. Not to mention, the amount of fringe radiation we’re taking in right now is like, the amount produced by a large banana. ” Tony said. “The only shit aboard that is gonna work will have to function off of our generated electrical stores.” Tony said. 

“What do those look like?” Bucky asked, eyes flicking between the five ships sitting before them, as if another glance would reveal a magic solution to their predicament. 

“I mean- they’re as full as possible. We just left so the generators had fully powered our stores before then. So we’ve got a good bit.” Tony said, conversationally. 

“Could we like, jump start the ships?” Bucky asked pressing a hand into his forehead. 

“Not how it works- unfortunately.” Tony responded. “Fuel Buck. We need fuel. The only thing we could fly with our electrical stores are the one man shuttles. Hope Fury has his favorites picked out.” Tony said, laughing lightly. 

“Tony, how is any of this funny? Honest to god.” Bucky groaned. “Alright, I have to go and report to our supreme overlord.” Tony chuckled as the line went dead. Bucky turned in his chair to look around the room. Most people were either bent over their desks, working furiously, or they were staring off into space. Steve had moved up towards Clint and Natasha, discussing the weaponry aboard and the best tactical arrangement for a fight in this situation. Bucky could feel his stomach churn, something unpleasant and cold settling into the center of it. 

“Barnes!” Fury barked from across the room. “What was the update from Stark?” 

“Not great sir. We haven’t had time to build up emergency radiation stores. The only power source we have in any supply is electrical power, so about all we can fly right now is a one man shuttlecraft.” Bucky explained, trying to keep his voice level. 

“Keep working on it Barnes, we need a solution. Potts, any updates from headquarters?” He said, turning toward the front of the bridge. 

“No sir. They have been in contact with our ships in the alpha squadron, but they are several hours from our position.” She said curtley, her hands still flying across her console. Fury’s brow furrowed even deeper, sighing. 

“Captain Fury.” The pilot said, standing up from his position at the front of the ship. “I might have an idea.” Bucky watched the pilot shift uncomfortably between his feet. Fury glanced up towards him. Quietly, Bucky opened the crew list on his console, scanning for the name of the pilot- Wade Wilson. He clicked on his profile, but it seemed like most of his career was either unspecified or redacted. Comforting, Bucky thought. 

“Wilson, so help me god if this is another one of your stupid, suicidal plans, I will personally reassign to a padded cell on base.” Fury ground out. “Out with it.” 

“Sir, in good conscience, I cannot promise that this is not maybe a suicide mission.” The pilot said with a chuckle. 

“Wilson!” Fury barked, balling his hands into fists. 

“There was a training exercise, sir, for like, massive emergency evac trainings. We had to come up with these stupid bad contingency plans for situations where, well, I guess for situations kind of like these, where there really isn’t a good solution? Our team just blew a lot of things up, but some groups actually tried. So one team used small ships like tugboats, to pull along a larger ship using the anchoring beams. I thought it was a cool idea and it seems like now might be a great time to test that thought.” He said, quickly, hands, waving in the air near him. 

“Wilson, that may be an incredibly stupid plan, but I have to admit I’m intrigued.” Fury said. “Barnes, get Stark in on this.” Bucky’s head snapped up. With a few quick clicks, he opened an audio channel to Stark’s console. 

“You’re on speakerphone, Stark.” Bucky growled out when the connection went through. 

“Ooh a party line!” Stark crooned. “What is the dealio?” He asked. 

“Lieutenant Wilson has a solution.” Fury said, turning back towards the pilot. “Please explain your plan again.”

“Alright - so basically we set up a single person shuttle, since you said those are like totally okay to run on our electrical stores. Well we set up two of them, technically. Anyway the shuttle goes out as far as it can, but like, not so far away that the anchoring beam can’t reach it, like I don’t know, in school they told us that the tractor and tow beams aren’t strong enough to actually like pull the whole fucking ship, it’s a big ship, so you gotta use the anchoring beam even though it’s kinda short. Right, so you fly the shuttle out to the limit of the range and then you anchor the ship to the shuttle, which is like a balanced fixed point and then you use the beam the same way you do when you gotta get a ship closer to a docking station. So you end up pulling the ship towards the shuttle. While the ship is getting pulled in, you send out the other shuttle. Remember I said two shuttles? Yeah. So then when you get close to the first shuttle, but like, before you run it over, you shift the anchoring beam to the other shuttle, and pull that way, la la la la, you keep doing it and the ship moves forward like a fucking ant.” Wade spoke in a rush, hands coming up to illustrate the point. His left hand shot out in front of him, making a grabbing motion in the air. His body lurched toward the left hand while his right hand shot out, making the same motion. “You kind of crawl through space, I guess?” He said abandoning his demonstration with a shrug. 

“Barnes? Stark? How stupid is this plan?” Fury asked, turning his attention back to the desks in front of him where Bucky sat. While Wade spoke, Bucky had pulled up information about the anchoring beams and the internal stabilization of shuttlecraft. 

“Well, the anchoring beam is certainly capable of pulling the ship forward, since it was literally designed to do that. The real question is if the shuttles will stay put with the ship pulling against them.” Bucky murmured, running some more numbers down the side of his console. 

“It sounds fucking awesome and we should do it!” Stark contributed. Though he couldn’t see it, Bucky was pretty sure a fist pump was included. “I’m gonna go get some shuttles ready.” He said. 

“Wilson, I want you directing the shuttles. Get yourself into position. Barnes, what’s the likelihood?” Fury asked. 

“Honestly sir?” Bucky said, checking his numbers one last time. “It’s worth a shot.” He said with a grin. 

“Let’s go.” Fury shouted. There was a momentary pause before the entire bridge exploded into motion. Bucky could hear Pepper Potts detailing the plan to command through the communicators while others began coordinating the anchoring beams. The oppressive anxiety which had enveloped the bridge since the crash seemed to suddenly dissipate with new found purpose. Even Steve seemed to perk up amidst the activity. He wandered back to Bucky’s desk, once again glancing between the plans and the display where the enemy ships were still visible. 

“What?” Bucky asked, raising and eyebrow. 

“How far out are we from the stream? Like, how long will we need in order to get the ship back into motion?” He asked, squinting forward. 

“I mean, those ships are pretty enormous so they’ve gotta be a pretty huge distance away…” Bucky said, frowning. “It’ll probably be a little while.” He said. “Not to mention, we’re going to have to sort of, merge in sideways, so we’ll need to go at an angle. That way we end up in the right directional flow.” Bucky continued. “Why?” 

“I don’t know, just thinking through time tables. Wondering if we’ll make it back into the stream before they get going.” Steve shrugged. 

“Hold on.” Bucky said. He clicked into his comm panel and opened a channel to Peter Parker, the navigator. “Come in, Ensign Parker.” Bucky said firmly. 

“Parker here.” Came back through his earpiece. The bridge was too noisy for them to reliably speak over the din. Besides, Bucky thought, no reason to cause more panic before he had information. 

“Parker, what is the distance between this ship’s current position and the earliest re-entry point into the stream, assuming we need to merge in at a small angle to minimize ricochet?” He asked, fingers drumming on the edge of his console. 

“One second, sir.” He said. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Parker moving quickly across the l-shaped navigator’s desk, fingers moving quickly. “A few thousand miles.” Parker added in. “It’s a fair distance, sir.” Parker said, a panicked edge creeping into his voice. 

“It’s alright Ensign. Thank you for the information.” Bucky said and closed the connection. He glanced up at Steve, who had moved closer to his desk. He now hovered above Bucky, one arm braced on the front of the console. His face was pinched in concern. 

“That’s not the number I was hoping for.” Steve said, carefully. “But I also know very little about all of this,” he gestured loosely with his free hand, “space stuff.” 

“It’s definitely concerning. I mean, the anchor beams are meant to pull in ships slipping away from docking without activating the engines, so they have a pretty good range and they can be reeled in at a good rate…” Bucky trailed off. His eyes moved back and forth quickly, running through some numbers in his head. “It’s a good few hours.” He said quietly. “We’re still in pretty deep shit.” Bucky said again. 

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” Steve said, a hard edge in his voice. Bucky looked up, making eye contact with Steve. He raised his eyebrows, shrugging his shoulders a little bit.

“Well at least we’re moving.” Bucky said, fingers stalled over the plans for the enemy sloops. “It’s better than nothing.” As he spoke a brief silence fell over the bridge. Bucky’s eyes snapped to the front screen. A small shuttle was weaving its way into space, away from the ship. When it was little more than a spec in the distance, Fury finally spoke. 

“Alright people. I do not know how this is going to go, so let’s prepare ourselves.” He said. 

Hill cleared her throat next to him. “All crew, all crew. Emergency protocol 4 in action. Please secure yourselves for high turbulence and possible impact or inversion.” She spoke loudly and decisively. Bucky immediately shifted back in his seat, attaching all of the available safety belts. Steve also pulled away from the table, heading back to his own seat. He struggled more to get all of the belts put into place, but he does eventually get himself fastened in. As the last of the bridge settles in an eerie calm falls over the crew. 

“Send out the anchor beam.” Fury said. The entire bridge seemed to hold their breath in anticipation. After a long pause, a beam of light green shoots out from the ship, enveloping the shuttle in the distance. 

“Alright, take her in.” Fury said, directing the order towards Wade Wilson, who was back in the pilot’s seat. 

“Sir, yes sir.” Wade said. Suddenly, the ship made a sickening lurch the right. Bucky could feel the sharp bite of the belt on his seatbelt into his shoulder as the enormous vessel began to drag itself through the inky black darkness. The entire metal hull seemed to tilt hard to the side. Bucky, along with the rest of the crew, watched rapt as the ship made its way towards the shuttle. As they approached, they could see the other shuttle shooting out ahead. Bucky set a timer on his desk, making sure he kept careful track of how long it took to get to the tow point. 

It took quite a bit of time, but eventually the ship drew close to the shuttle. The anchor beam disengaged but the ship continued to move forward towards the shuttle, drifting forward through space. A few moments later, the anchor beam struck out again, latching onto the second shuttle. With bruising force, the ship heaved to the other side. Bucky ran his hand under the belt where it pushed against the scar tissue on his left shoulder. It ached most days and the harsh pressure from the belt was not doing him any favors. Bucky could hear the others on the bridge grunt in pain and discomfort, but most of the bridge had begun to work again. The ship remained at a consistent tilt, so work was done quietly at individual consoles. 

Bucky had opened up another chat with Stark, assessing the state of the Mayallian ships and analyzing the likely damage done to their own frigate from the towing. 

“James Barnes!” Steve’s voice filtered through his revelry. They had made several more shifts at this point, spending more than an hour tilting to the right, to the left, and back again. Bucky was contemplating whether or not his medical insurance would cover a nice long session with a massage therapist when Steve interrupted.

“What is it Rogers?” He said, back, head snapping to the side. 

“Look at the sloops.” Steve said, eyes wide with panic. At this point, they had made enough progress that the Mayallian fleet was significantly off to the side of the view. Bucky squinted toward the image. 

“What are you talking about, Captain?” He said, making a face towards Steve. 

“The engines!” He hissed and Bucky’s eyes flew back to the screen. Sure enough, peaking around the edges of the sloops’ back end, the tell tale faint yellow glow of power. 

“Fuck!” Bucky exclaimed, scrambling to disengage his safety belts. “Captain Fury!” He said, standing up suddenly. 

“Barnes! We are under code 4! Back in your seat!” Hill exclaimed from her post. 

“What is it Barnes?” Fury asked at the same time. Ignoring Hill, Bucky made eye contact with Fury. 

“Their sloops are nearly powered up. We are running out of time.” Bucky said emphatically. 

“Lieutenant Wilson! “ Fury barked. “Can we move an faster?” 

“No sir, this is as fast as we can go. This method has, uh, limits.” He said, not turning around, but instead focusing on executing the next exchange between shuttles. Bucky could feel his pulse picking up as panic set in. 

“We’re looking at as little as a 20 minute time window, sir.” Bucky ground out. “I’m calling Stark.” Bucky turned back towards his desk. At that moment, another shift occurred. Bucky slammed into his chair, grunting in pain as his prosthetic broke his fall. He could feel bruises forming along his side as he pulled up a comm with Stark, adjusting back into his seat. 

“Please have good news.” Stark said, voice echoing over the intercom. 

“The Mayallian sloops are powering up.” Bucky said bluntly. “We need another option.” He continued the quiet buzz of panicked voices picking up again. 

“I don’t have anything for you Buck-” Stark said, voice low. “The engines are not set up to deal with this. We have no power.” Bucky began to chew on his lip, bringing up the plans for the UFE Avenger again, desperately hoping to see something different, something he hadn’t noticed before. 

“Captain Fury!” Another voice broke through the intercom. 

“Report Lieutenant Commander Banner.” Fury growled. “We are in the middle of a crisis. This better be important.” He glowered into space. 

“It is sir.” Banner began. “Ororo Munroe has detected an incoming solar flare. I know it is a massively anomaly this far out, but we have minutes until this hits.” He said, sounding almost breathless. 

“Shit.” Fury muttered under his breath. The entire bridge began to shift uneasily in their seats. Even Wilson seemed to hesitate, though he did not stop pulling the ship forward. 

“I’m sorry sir, but we have to make a choice immediately.” Banner urged. 

“That could totally blow out our engines.” Bucky said, muttering low. Steve whipped around to look at him, eyes wide. “Usually we would shut down intake for a few minutes on either side of the flare. It stops motion, but it keeps the engine from overloading and blowing.” Bucky explained quickly. 

“Or we could not shut down the intake ports.” Stark’s voice echoed across the now silent bridge. 

“Stark, that is suicide.” Fury said from his chair. “Every single manual, every guide, if there is one rule to flying in space, do not fly through a solar flare.” He insisted. 

“No, sir, with all due respect.” Stark began, voice edged with panic. “The engines have no build up. I mean, yes, it could backfire, but if not, then we could literally jump start the ship immediately, fire back into the stream and be back at base for repairs in a few hours. This is the best plan.” Stark insisted. 

“What if we faked it.” Steve said immediately after Tony stopped speaking. “What if we made it look like we were shutting down, so the Mayallian fleet will hopefully do the same. Then we can power through the flare and get a head start. Drive the ship to safety.” He said. Fury gave him a hard, cold stare. “It is your call, sir, but either the ship is captured, along with her crew, the ship blows an engine, or we can actually get away from this whole disaster.” Steve pleaded with him, entirely glossing over the implications of the crew being captured. Bucky shuttered, turning back to Fury to await orders. 

“Sir, we are T-5 minutes from impact.” Banner’s voice came across the line again, strained with barely contained emotion. 

“All crew, draw in for solar flare, prepare engine shields. Do not secure any shields, just make it look convincing.” Fury said. “All non-essential crew, report to emergency evac locations and prepare for the possibility of total engine failure. Red alert.” The ship began to pulse a red light through the hallways and consoles, a klaxon echoing through the halls. Bucky could feel nausea rising at the thought of what was to come. 

First, their shields would be dropped, without engaging the lock mechanism. Through the open channel to Stark, Bucky could hear the orders being carried out, the grating sound of metal sliding against metal echoing in his ears. He shifted his gaze towards the Mayallian fleet. It was their move next. 

Bucky breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw their shields clamp down, the glow from the sloops extinguished behind reinforced shielding. “Fury, the Mayallian ships have closed ports. They are shut down for the flare.” Bucky reported. Fury muttered a gruff response, eyes tight with emotion. 

“30 seconds until impact.” Banner’s voice came through the comm. Bucky rushed to re-attach all of his safety belts. 

“Drop the shields, now, now, now!” Fury yelled. Bucky locked his hands around the arm rests, bracing for the worst. With a great metal screeching the shields fell away from the engines and the solar flare made contact with the ship. 

An unholy sound like the scream of metal being torn in half, broke the tense silence. The ship slammed forward, the engines overloaded with power, and took off towards the stream. Bucky could hardly process what was happening. Between the awful noise and the terrible, incense pressure pushing him down and back into his seat, he could hardly keep his eyes open. Internally he was amazed how similar it felt to being knocked out of the stream initially. 

Bucky eventually regained his senses from the shock of the flare. He was breathing hard, sweat dripping down his face. Alerts and sirens were running across the ship and slowly the bridge crew sprang into action. 

“Status report, Hill.” Fury ground out. 

“Significant amounts of minor damage to the hull, no major breaches. Life support systems are all online. And Stark is indicating the engines are working.” She said, Bucky wondered if it was possible to frazzle Maria Hill. 

“Good.” Fury said. Bucky turned his attention toward the front of the bridge. They were rocketing through the radiation flow, heading for safety with a significant head start. He breathed a sigh of relief and slumped back in his chair. 

“Thank god.” He muttered. He glanced over at Steve, who still seemed a little dazed. His stoic composure was gone and replaced with something much more nuanced, more honest. He was too dazed to read too much into the other man’s emotions, though. Steve glanced over towards him, offering a tired smile. 

Bucky smiled back for a moment before a sharp pain in his left side distracted him. He was going to need another trip to medical after all. Perfect.

____________________________________________________

 

Pulling back into base less than 24 hours after initial departure was certainly not a cause for celebration. The crew’s mood was somber, everyone still processing the brutal beating their new flagship had taken even without direct engagement. 

Fury said very little as they pulled into port for a few days of repairs. Mostly, he gave an ominous warning. 

The Mayallian’s were more aggressive than anticipated. The crew should prepare for real combat the next time they leave port. 

Bucky processed his words, once again questioning what he had signed up for. Why he had decided to do this to himself. As he wandered down the halls, nursing his purpling, bruised ribs, he heard someone call out his name behind him. 

“James!” Steve said, jogging to catch up to him. Bucky slowed for a moment, allowing the other to catch up. 

“What can I do for you Steve?” He asked, wincing in pain. 

“You were incredible today.” Steve said. “I know Wilson did most of the steering, but you… We couldn’t have done it without you.” He reiterated. Bucky gave a pained smile, mentally counting the steps to his room. “Uh, are you okay?” Steve asked, noticing his discomfort. 

“Yeah, just some bruised ribs from falling into my chair. You know, a real battle wound.” Bucky said with a chuckle. 

“Ah.” Steve said, pausing for a moment. “Your quarters are close right? I’ve got pretty extensive triage support. Let me help you.” He said with a smile. Bucky hesitated. Steve Rogers was exactly the person he hated. He pushed for war, for violence above all else. Even today, Bucky saw him jump at the chance for armed combat… 

On the other hand, Steve had gotten off the war path, he’d helped them plan and even saved the day a few times himself. Bucky’s gut reaction was to punch Steve Rogers in his smug face and walk away. But somewhere in his mind, a small voice wondered if he’d misjudged the war-mongering lobbyist. One day he was going to walk himself right into his own death, as his mother used to (and still does) tell him. 

“Yeah, that’d be good, thanks.” Bucky said. He lead them back to his quarters, setting up the medkit on the coffee table in the front room. He sat on the couch and carefully stripped the top half of his uniform, including the black undershirt. There were a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. 

“I know the scarring is a lot and the prosthetic is, well, unconventional.” Bucky conceding, breaking the silence. 

“It’s certainly not your run of the mill tech.” Steve commented, finally sitting down next to him and poking at his bruised ribs. 

“Starktech.” Bucky supplied. 

“That’s why you two seemed to know each other so well.” Steve said quietly, almost speaking to himself. “Nothing looks broken.” He concluded, reaching for the kit. “Just some contusion spray should make the worst of it heal up overnight. You’ll be right as rain.” He finished, smiling at Bucky. 

“Thanks. Saves me a trip to medbay for a fight with a chair. Not the highlight of my medical record, I assure you.” He said with a grimace. 

“How did it happen?” Steve asked and immediately shook his head. “I am so sorry. That was so, so beyond inappropriate.” He said, standing up from the couch, hands clenching and unclenching by his side. 

“I was a prisoner of war during the revolution.” Bucky said curtley. “‘S why I don’t really care much for the fighting part of this whole deal.” He said quietly, pulling his undershirt back on. 

“So when you said you’d spent time aboard enemy ships…” Steve said, trailing off. 

“Yeah. Not by choice. Not like some super secret James Bond shit either. Sadder than that.” He said with a humorless chuckle. Bucky looked up at Steve, still standing, and they made eye contact for a second. Awkward silence reigned for a few moments. Bucky was about to suggest they both get some sleep, when Steve finally broke the silence. 

“Would you teach me?” He asked abruptly. “You know, about the ships, weapons, power supply, alterations. I just know so much less than I thought and if I want to be of any help to anybody, I have to learn.” He said, brows furrowing. “What Fury said, about the war picking up, it got me thinking.” He continued, voice growing quiet. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt because I was unprepared.” He finished in a whisper. 

“I have one condition.” Bucky responded, finally getting up from the couch. “Teach me about tactics. Information exchange. If we can pool our knowledge maybe we can both save some lives.” 

“Yeah?” Steve asked, light returning to his eyes. “Yeah!” He said again, not waiting for a response. They shook hands and Bucky felt calmer than he had since joining this godforsaken death mission.

Here is some amazing art by Hannah (tumblr: @sundaecherries), as promised!  


It's amazing and everything I imagined! Thank you so much for coming in and making this happen- you're amazing!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Steve and Bucky grow closer, the war looms ever closer on the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff ahead, for a moment.

“Can I have a battle elephant?” Bucky asked, brows drawn together. The desk in front of him had a map of Earth, various types of plastic men and horses were scattered around the glowing surface. 

“”A what?” Said Steve, walking back into the sitting room from Bucky’s bedroom. He still had books on his hand from the bookshelf he was reorganizing near the bed. His uniform was crisp and sharp, every element in place, as always. Every inch of Steve Rogers was built for beauty, Bucky mused before returning to safer thoughts. Battle strategy, right. 

“A battle elephant. Like from those old earth movies, Lord of the Rings, or something. Giant gray animals with tusks and trunks and you can have like 58 people ride them at once. Great tactical vantage point. Ring a bell?” Bucky asked, turning to look at Steve and pulling a leg up into his chair. 

“No, I don’t watch a lot of old movies.” Steve said, face still confused. “But I mean, battle elephants sound pretty cool.” Steve shrugged. “Might be worth investigated. You think it had any historical basis?” He asked, moving towards the desk and leaning next to Bucky. 

“Uh, I’m not sure, but I’m gonna go ahead and say no on the historic accuracy.” Bucky said, smirking. “There’s also a ghost army and like talking trees.” Bucky said with a dramatic hand gesture. Steve’s forehead wrinkled. 

“Right.” Steve said, shaking his head. “Ghost armies. Probably not best to plan around that as a strategy then.” 

“We should watch them together. I think all of them together is like 12 hours or something stupid like that. We can make popcorn and you can do that really annoying thing you do where you start picking apart the battle plan and strategy of fictional people.” Bucky said, with a chuckle. 

“Ok, I mean, I don’t really do that very often. Only when the tactics are like, really awful.” Steve said rolling his eyes. 

“Wreck It Ralph hardly merited the dressing down you gave it.” Bucky said, eyebrow raised. 

“Yeah well maybe Ralph needs a good dressing down now and again.” Steve said with a face splitting grin and a wink. 

“Gross, Rogers!” Bucky shouted and shoved Steve’s side. He crossed his arms across his torso. Bucky wore his uniform undone down to his waist, tied up around his hips. His black tac shirt underneath allowed for his prosthetic to breathe, without catching or snagging on the fabric. “You’re disgusting.” Bucky shook his head and looked back at the map again. “I’m telling you there is no way the mongol horde built up their forces to this extent without war elephants. No way, no how.” Bucky said, crossing his arms. Steve looked down at him unimpressed. 

“What you lack in imagination, you don’t make up for in creativity.” He muttered, repositioning some of the soldiers around the projected land masses. 

“Says the man who still can’t differentiate between a sloop and a barque.” Bucky said without malice. “It’s been three months.” Bucky restrained himself from sticking out his tongue. 

“At least I’m not asking if there are fucking elephants as standard equipped weaponry on a ship of the line.” Steve laughed, smiling down at Bucky. Bucky’s throat tightened up, struck by the joy glowing through Steve’s face. His cheeks were pink and a little bit of hair had slipped out of place. They were still in uniform, though both were technically off duty. In the three months since they managed to scrape the ship back into port, life aboard the ship had normalized somewhat. Shifts rotated on a standard duty schedule. Steve and Bucky spent more time together away from the bridge, often studying together, watching movies or otherwise finding a little bit of trouble to get into. 

“We should still watch the Lord of the Rings movies together sometime, one of our movie nights.” Bucky said, bringing up their running movie queue on top of the map on the desk. He added in the three movies in order. Steve reached over and closed the window. 

“Haha, very funny. Now stop avoiding it, back to Mongol hordes.” Steve said, gesturing towards the map. Bucky rolled his eyes. He wondered briefly if he could distract Steve from this stupid lesson with the promise of a gym trip. Steve lived for a good workout and Bucky never complained about getting him out of his regulation uniform.

“I really just don’t get it.” Bucky said, eyes sliding over the table. “I get spaceships, right? They’re big and powerful and scary. The Mongols just had like a couple guys on horses who did some fancy bow tricks.” Bucky shrugged, flicking over one of the soldiers Steve had just righted. 

“That’s exactly the thing though.” Steve said. “They were small, heavily trained and highly effective.” Steve explained, moving small units around the map. 

“So they won because they were less powerful?” Bucky asked, watching Steve regroup the small forms. 

“They used a different kind of power, they used speed and long range attacks to scatter and frustrate larger, slower melee-trained armies.” He advanced a single archer towards a larger army set up and with a flick of his hand, they larger army toppled like dominos. “That’s one of the great secrets of military strategy. Winning by sheer strength is a bad plan; violent conflict is unpredictable. You have to find a different tactic if you want consistency in warfare. Think about a sniper. A good sniper can change the course of a battle.” Steve explained. 

“That I do know.” Bucky mumbled quietly. He glanced around, pushing some plastic figures around the map. 

“So, what, they were like ethical warriors? Trying to win by avoiding bloodshed?” Bucky asked. Steve reached over and shut down the screen, as they began to clean up with plastic figures. 

“Good god no. They were brutal, horrible and cruel.” Steve shook his head. “But they were effective, and they knew it. It wasn’t them trying to be morally superior to their enemies. They found a better way to wage war, but war is still war.” Steve continued. “It’s complicated. They did terrible things, really, like kind of unimaginably awful things. But with the stability they brought to the region, they also created a golden age of trade… but like on the other hand, half your village was dead.” Steve shrugged, putting the top back on the box and sliding it under the table. 

“And that is why I will always be a shit tactician.” Bucky said, pushing away from the desk and walking a few steps towards the center of the room. “I’m no good at making those sorts of choices. Better at following orders, I guess.” He said, not looking back.

“Look, I mean, that’s why I do this. If you’re the person dictating strategy, then you decide what’s important to you. I can chose to use strategies that save lives.” Steve said, taking a step towards Bucky’s back. 

“So you want fight a war without consequences?” Bucky asked, letting out an exasperated sigh. “That’s not how this works.” 

“No. I make necessary choices and I guess I just have to absorb the costs.” Steve said, taking a step toward Bucky. “I make an informed decision. That way I know that we’re using the solution that leads to the least bloodshed, and if anyone has to live with the guilt of it, then it’s me and not my men.” Steve finished, voice louder than he intended. The air seemed to still in the room and Bucky let out a slow breath. 

“I think…” Bucky began, turning around to face Steve. “I think that is admirable.” He said, softly. “To make that choice. I don't think I could.” 

“You are more than capable as a strategist. You make one of the hardest choices I can think of, you choose everyday to be on this ship. Even though…” Steve began, trailing off. He made an aborted gesture towards Bucky’s prosthetic. 

“God Steve, can we not get into this whole mess right now?” Bucky said, hugging his arm in close to his chest. 

“Sorry, that was shitty of me.” Steve said, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking mollified. Bucky glanced up to his face. 

“I promise, I'll tell you about it when it becomes something you need to know. I’ll tell you all of it, but it’s not a nice story.” Bucky said, with a grimace. “It's just not really the same thing. I act out of fear, but you act out of hope. Even if that makes you an idiot, it is also something I can respect.” He took a small shuffling step towards Steve but stopped short of reaching out to touch him. Steve nodded, lost in his thoughts.

“Do you want to switch over to your stuff?” Steve asked after a quiet moment. “I know we were discussing essential functionalities of navigation. Not that my ship classification is really up to par yet…” he said with a half grin, expression sheepish.

Part of Bucky wanted to scream and cry until Steve demanded to hear the whole story. He wanted to be forced to spill out his deepest secrets, outlining every gruesome and personal detail of his time in captivity, of his time as a brainwashed sniper. Steve would let him too; he would listen to every tiny detail, and Bucky so desperately wanted someone to shoulder some of his burden. But nothing that he could say would help his situation, and it would only upset Steve. So instead Bucky moved his left hand, creating a new screen in the air and began to bring up files with complex maps and lists of coordinates. 

“So there is one central challenge in navigation a starship of any class, but the problem becomes much more critically acute in any class above a sloop… like our very own frigate.” Bucky began trying to shake off the edge of sadness in his mind. 

“Fuel.” Steve supplied, coming to stand next to Bucky. 

“Exactly. Fuel. The engine design as it stands now requires amounts of radiation that are not carryable aboard a ship and we don't have the technology, yet, to produce the energy on board through a reactor. So-” Bucky said, gesturing towards the map, “we have to fly within the radiation pathways as they exist. Luckily, they're pretty pervasive, so there should be enough room for all of us to move around, trade, explore or whatever.” He pointed at the map and a few intersecting lines glowed to life on top of the map. “But, of course, if it were that easy we wouldn't be here. There are a small number of routes that are more effective, faster and overall give you more bang for your buck. And these have become conflict routes.”

“That's where the Mayallians are kidnapping sailors, right?” Steve asked pointing to an intersection with several notably bloody battles in its past. 

“Yeah- pirates, hired privateers, government sanctioned kidnapping. Its causes are all here in these trade routes. It's just a power game.” He continued, shaking his head.

“At any rate, navigation is a tricky business. You have to pick routes well suited to your ship, your schedule, and your alliances. Some routes are too small to sustain large spacecraft. Others are overwhelmed with freight carriers and warships, a small ship could suffer serious damage.” Bucky gestured towards different parts of the screen. “Battle planning gets even harder when you consider the spatial logistics.”

“Right. Like knocking six ships out of a stream altogether.” Steve said, frowning.

“That is actually spectacularly uncommon. Big streams provide plenty of space for multidirectional movement and the radiation streams run with you, often, bending around ships when they stray towards the edge.” Bucky explained, highlighting the area where the UFS Avenger had met the enemy vessels. 

“Then how did we end up in such deep shit? I thought it seemed like a pretty huge oversight if it was that easy to knock a ship out of the stream.” He said focusing on the map, now displaying the area where the ship had slipped out of the stream a few months ago. “It's tiny.” He said, looking back towards Bucky, brow furrowed. 

“Yeah.” Bucky chuckled. “Actually explains a lot,” he continued, “you can think about it like an access road. Essentially it’s so small that there’s no reason we ever should have been in a stream that narrow to begin with. But we were using it to get from our base into a main stream. ” Bucky shook his head. “We were probably stretching the outer limits of the stream on our own, moving at a slow speed. I have less than no idea how the five ships actually even got into that small of a stream without busting out. They must have been pushed completely to the edge. It’s just totally ludicrous.” Bucky muttered, gaze locked on the screen in front of him. 

“And that's also why the sensor array didn't pick up the Mayallian ships’ presence?” Steve asked.

“Well, we should definitely have been able to see them coming. My guess is nobody was looking. People were more concerned with getting other things running. Long range sensors can fall pretty low on priority lists when you're in friendly skies. So yeah, between the sheer ridiculousness of them even being there and the rush of getting underway, my guess is that we just didn’t ever see them coming.” Bucky said, turning to look at Steve. “It seems like a flimsy excuse but these things happen on ships like this.” 

“No, that’s how these things go.” Steve said with a shrug. “That’s one of the first things you learn in strategy. Things just aren’t going to go the way you expect.” He smiled at Bucky. “The secret is having good men - ones that will get you out of whatever shit you get into.” 

“Is that how we ended up with this fucking crew?” Bucky asked, laughing. 

“Probably.” Steve said, smirking. “God, the last crew bonding night was absolutely horrific.” He said, laughing too. “I don’t know what Fury was thinking when he picked all of us.” 

“To be fair, whoever thought boardgame night was a good idea clearly needs to get their head checked. We are the most competitive group of people possible. And we’re all deeply stressed out. I mean, monopoly was a bad enough idea, but twister? Barton ending up with a black eye is literally the best case scenario ending here.” Bucky said, crossing his arms. He leaned back against his desk, and Steve moved so that he was leaning back next to him. 

“I mean, I agree about Barton. No way Natasha loses at twister. I mean come on.” Steve said, nodding. “What I didn’t expect was your scrabble related aggression.” 

“Scrabble is serious business.” Bucky said, face serious. “Let me tell you man, you spend enough time in rehab you get really into scrabble. Plus I could actually beat Tony pretty regularly and that pissed him off so bad. It was fucking hilarious.” 

“So that’s why he bolted as soon as you moved for the scrabble box.” Steve hummed bumping his shoulder against Bucky’s, who returned the favor. 

“You take what victories you can get, ya know?” Bucky mumbled, their sides pressed together along the edge of the desk. 

“I really can’t imagine.” Steve said. Slowly, he reached over and ghosted his fingers over Bucky’s metal hand. With his uniform down around his waist, the entire arm was exposed. Without looking up, Bucky turned his hand over, inviting more contact. Steve ran his hand against the metal palm, slotting his fingers in between Bucky’s. The metal plates up and down Bucky’s arms recalibrated, clicking together. 

Steve had touched the prosthetic before in passing and occasionally on movie nights, he would end up pressed against Bucky’s left side, but he had never let himself focus on it before. 

“So you can feel this, right?” Steve asked quietly, palm sliding against Bucky’s. 

“More or less. I mean, I can feel movement, heat, texture to some extent.” He said, flexing his hand against Steve’s. “It’s not like my other hand, but it works.” He said. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Bucky realized this was the longest anyone other than Tony had ever touched his prosthetic. Gradually the metal was beginning to warm under Steve’s hand. “It retains heat.” Bucky said, “The metal. So I can feel where people touched me, even after they’re gone.” Bucky said, briefly untangling their hands, before bringing them back together. 

They were quiet for a few moments. 

“Thank you for teaching me, about the ships and everything else.” Steve said quietly. “I feel like I can make much better choices, thanks to you. We’re gonna put a stop to the violence, Buck. I promise.” He said, gently sweeping his thumb along the smooth metal plates. Bucky looked up and met Steve’s eyes, soft with empathy. 

“You’re a good man, Steve.” Bucky said, quietly. He could feel the gentle curve of Steve’s hip, settled against his own and the warmth of their joined hands. He felt a gentle heat in the center of his body, a glowing sort of happiness deep in his chest. 

“A work in progress.” He said in response, grimacing. Steve began to pull his hand away slightly. However, Bucky tightened his hold, keeping him in place. Bucky opened his mouth to say something else, an unformed thought bubbling to the surface. 

“Code Red. All crew report to battle stations. I repeat all crew, report to battle stations.” Hill’s voice rang out crisply across the ship wide intercom. Bucky and Steve jumped apart, the quiet of Steve’s quarters shattered by the sudden announcement. Almost as soon as the message finished, the blaring alarm began to echo across the ship. Without waiting for any confirmation both Steve and Bucky lunged for the door. Bucky quickly untied his uniform from around his waist, wrestling the top over his shoulders. He cursed loudly as the fabric snagged in the metal joints, but he finally got it into place, zipping the front. He pushed the arms up to his elbows and exited Steve’s quarters. 

Steve was a few steps ahead, walking quickly down the hall towards the bridge. Bucky jogged for a moment to catch up and they walked together, silent. 

Steve’s eyes had gone hard and cold as stone. 

As they walked towards their riser on the bridge, Steve turned around to face Bucky again. 

“Bucky…” He began, unsure of what he meant to say. “Whatever happens…” He began again, his hand reached out, as if he wanted to touch Bucky again, but he stopped the movement. Bucky also had a fleeting thought, that now was the chance to say something important, but the moment passed without anything said. 

“Barnes! Rogers!” Fury barked from behind them. Both whirled around to face the top of the bridge, Steve saluting quickly. “Get to your stations. We have a serious situation.” Without any more delay, Steve and Bucky both slid into their seats, activating their computers and setting to work. 

“All bridge crew, we have a situation arising in t-minus thirty minutes.” Hill’s voice rang out loud and clear across the bridge. “We have an enemy vessel approaching at speed. We will intercept in 30 minutes. The vessel has signaled its intent to engage with us. Pepper, any word on opening a diplomatic channel?” Hill said, turning her attention towards the communications desk. 

“No, a complete stone wall.” Pepper Potts responded, hands flying over the desk. 

“They’re broadcasting a message of intent to attack. Letting other Mayallian’s know of their actions.” Said Wanda from the other side of the room. Her hair was wound up on the back of her head, large headphones in place. Bucky realized her Mayallian accent was growing stronger the longer she spoke. 

“We have a real battle on our hands folks.” Fury said darkly. “Romanov, Barton. Prepare all weapons and battle stations.” He ordered, turning to look down the bridge. The entire crew buzzed with anticipation. Three months in space and they’d done nothing but intimate other ships and coast along the streams. Finally, they were going to see action and the excitement was palpable. Bucky couldn’t help but wonder how this would change the crew. How this would change him. He glanced over at Steve who seemed to vibrate with barely contained energy. He was turned around, talking through battle plans with Fury, Clint and Natasha. 

His eyes shone with a feral emotion, wild and angry. Bucky wondered what happened to the soft kindness in his eyes before. In the back of his mind he wondered if perhaps he’d imagined the whole interaction in Steve’s quarters. 

This was where Steve Rogers was at home. On the battlefield, wreaking havoc and immersed in violence. 

Bucky was shaken out of his thoughts as Steve turned back towards his station. He caught Bucky’s eye, briefly, concern flickered through his expression.

“You okay Buck?” He asked quietly. 

“Yeah, just, not looking forward to this.” Bucky responded with a shake of his head. 

“Don’t worry.” Steve said, the excitement returning to his face. “We’re definitely going to win.” A smile, probably supposed to be comforting, mused Bucky, settled onto Steve’s face. 

“Rogers.” Fury said, drawing Steve’s attention back to the captain. “You’re finally going to get your battle. Let’s hope you’re ready.” He said with an edge to his voice. 

“Yes sir.” Steve answered, his voice low and harsh. He was the perfect soldier and he would run a perfect battle. 

Bucky looked straight ahead, the warm feeling in his chest from earlier replaced with a cold, sinking feeling in his stomach.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avenger and her crew face their first real battle and see first hand the effects of their choices and actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky does get slightly injured here. It's minor. Talk about trauma.
> 
> This would be the battle against the HMS Guerriere, though I altered some of the events.

“Barnes, report or get off the bridge.” Fury spoke from behind Bucky, voice still cutting through the mounting chaos on the bridge. 

“Yes, sir.” Bucky began enlarging the image of the approaching enemy vessel. He scanned the outer structure. Two engine turbines at medium capacity, he noted, and two sets of forward facing guns, small arrays. “She’s a frigate sir, same as us. But she’s smaller, fewer guns.” He said, still scanning over the image in front of him. His eyes skittered to a halt over the very front nose of the ship. A large red image was emblazoned there, scrawled over the curved metal. Bucky turned to face Fury, eyes wide. “I know this ship sir... it’s hydra.” He said seriously;he could fee his shoulders tense up.

“You’re sure?” Fury asked, eyes narrowing. 

“Absolutely. You can see the colors now. They were probably cloaking their allegiance earlier. Easier to play it off as if they were a merchant vessel. Now though…” Bucky trailed off, glancing towards the front monitor. Fury followed the motion of his eyes. They both stared at the angry, red octopus on the approaching ship. 

“Hydra?” Steve asked, voice incredulous. He was leaning over towards Bucky's side of the console, body stretched out across the space. Bucky glanced up but quickly returned to his desk. 

“Yes. As in Mayallian special forces.” Bucky ground out. “Heavy weaponry, aggressive.” He did not look up at Steve. 

“Bucky…” He began, trailing off. 

“Don’t worry about it Steve. Just figure out what the fuck we do to get out of this alive, okay?” He said, finally looking up and catching Steve’s eye.

“Bridge to engineering.” A voice from behind Bucky said. He whipped around to see Natasha talking into her earpiece. “Stark, revert 30% of aft weaponry to forward shields until further notice.” She continued. Glancing up she made eye contact with Bucky, shrugging her shoulders. “Hydra tend to be a shoot first, strategize later type of deal.” Steve made a quiet noise from behind him. He turned to look towards the other man, brow furrowed in concentration.

“What else do you know about their military strategies?” He asked, face impassive. 

“They will be weapon heavy, forward shooting. They aim for high occupancy, high function areas. They don’t rely much on strategy, to be honest. They mostly rely on brute force to push through a situation.” Bucky said muttering and looking back down towards his projection. “The most likely course is to try and broadside the ship, take out as much of the hull as possible, make her unable to hold air.” Bucky’s eyes took on a slightly glazed look, focused on things no one else could see. 

“Shit.” Steve said, running a hand down his face. “I’m guessing they don’t take a whole lot of prisoners?” He asked. 

“There you’d be wrong. They love bargaining chips. They want to humiliate their enemy. Total victory, complete capture or complete kill. That is always the goal. They will have close combat specialists all over this ship, if we give them the chance to board. If at all possible, do not give them the chance to board this ship.” Bucky said, looking back and forth between Steve and Natasha. Natasha nodded her head, locking eyes with Bucky. He nodded quickly in return and went back to looking at the map in front of him. Bucky watched his profile for another few moments, before going back to his schematics of the other ship. 

“T minus 15 minutes until firing range.” Barton said from behind him. The entire bridge quieted for a moment before exploding into even more rapid movement, the noise level growing quickly. Bucky whirled around, determined to speak with Fury despite the growing chaos. 

“Sir, I know this ship. We do not have 15 minutes.” Bucky said, insistent. He took a step towards the command center at the top of the bridge. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Natasha suddenly lurch forward towards her station, mouth falling open slightly. 

“Sir!” She shouted before Fury could answer Bucky. “They’re preparing forward guns. They’re loading long range missiles for immediate launch.” Natasha continued, voice growing frantic. Her hands seemed to stop and start above her console, not entirely sure what to do. 

“Barton, prepare to return fire.” Fury barked, hands tensing on the arms of his chair and Clint sprang into action in front of him. 

“Aye aye sir!” Clint said, fingers flying over a complex array of indicators and dials, each specifying power and range for one of the weapons available on the warship. Bucky had to remind himself of that sometimes. This is a warship. Sometimes, while he and Steve were walking through the botany greenhouse, smelling flowers they’d only ever heard about in novels, it was easy to forget the weapon stockpiles only a few decks below them. Bucky caught himself wondering if he would ever be able to do that again. 

“Captain Fury!” Steve said, finally breaking out of his study. “Do not fire on the enemy!” Steve said, voice harsh. Bucky felt both hopeless and thrilled at the same time. Maybe Steve had a plan. Maybe Steve could get them out of this without bloodshed. 

“And why would we not return fire, Rogers?” Fury asked, his one eyebrow raised.

“Trust me.” Steve began. “This is a one on one battle between two similar ships. We have to wait for the right moment to strike.” He continued, eyes flicking to Barton who was still preparing the missiles for deployment. “We must keep all of the advantages we have.”

“And while you wait for the right moment, am I supposed to let my ship get blown to bits and my men die?” Fury asked, arms coming up to cross over his chest. 

“No sir. I’ve been studying the ship carefully. She can take it.” Steve said with confidence. There was a tense moment of silence between the two men. The air on the bridge seemed to crackle with tension.

“Barton, power down. Stay at the ready.” Fury ordered, breaking the atmosphere. 

“Sir.” Clint began, turning to look at Fury, then quickly glancing to Natasha. She was still hovering over her own console, frowning at Captain Fury.

“That is an order, Lieutenant!” Fury said again, uncrossing his arms and slamming them down on the sides of his chair. 

“We are T-Minus 5 minutes from firing range.” Hill commented from beside him, her voice cracking with nervous energy. All eyes turned toward the front screen of the bridge. Now, they could all see the ship streaking towards them in the distance. 

“They’ve fired sir.” Barton said, voice strained. Time seemed to stretch out around them and on the screen you could see two tiny pinpricks of light, growing steadily larger. Distantly, Bucky could hear other people on the bridge continuing to work. Pepper was speaking rapidly in a language he didn’t immediately recognize and Natasha was shouting at Tony about shield strength. It registered briefly that Bucky should probably be helping, offering some kind of hints about strategy or weaponry. After all, he had literally served aboard the same ship they were about to engage in battle. Instead, his brain stayed fuzzy and detached in the onslaught of panic. 

“Brace for impact.” Fury ordered and Bucky latched his hands onto the sides of his chair. On his flesh hand, the knuckles turned white, while the metal fingers bit into armrest, creating a permanent indent. 

He could see it now in detail, since the ship was so much closer. The red octopus stretched in ugly caricature across the front of the missiles as they grew larger and larger in the screen before him. 

“T-minus 4 minutes to critical range.” Hill’s voice rang out at the same moment when the missiles made contact with the lower front hull. For a moment there was a terrible lurch low in Bucky’s stomach, he was being knocked forward in his chair from the force of the impact. However he quickly realized that he was not, in fact, about to lurch forward across his desk. He glanced around the bridge. There was somewhat of a stunned silence. 

“Target hit.” Natasha said, voice firm. 

“Damage report, Stark!” Fury shouted into his earpiece. 

“Well, Captain Furiosa, both missiles impacted the lower hull. But there’s no damage to report. As darling Hill keeps reminding us we are still not quite in range for damaging strikes. Though, we didn’t even take a scratch.” Stark’s voice echoed across the quiet bridge. There was a pause and then relieved chatter spread over the entire collection of people. Bucky could hear Wade’s signature insane laugh. He glanced towards the console. Parker looked like he was about to vomit, but Wade had a hand on his back, red in the face with laughter. “The missiles more or less bounced off the hull sir.” Tony said. He almost sounded shocked, Bucky thought to himself, an odd emotion for Stark. 

“T-Minus three minutes to critical hit range.” Hill said, her voice growing stronger. Bucky turned back to face his console and looked up to see Steve staring dead ahead. 

“Should we prepare weapons again, for firing range?” He asked. Steve turned to glance at him. 

“How far is our range?” He asked. “Flight time wise.” 

“Based on current speeds…” Bucky muttered scribbling out some calculations. “We will have another 20 minutes from the edge of firing range until we hit proximity range with the possibility of impact.” He said, glancing up towards Steve. 

Steve nodded grimly and returned to the map in front of him, slowly moving items around on the map on his screen. 

Bucky glanced down at his own console, noticing a new chat from Stark. 

Stark_Tony: Stop blowing holes in my ship!!!  
Stark_Tony: JK no holes.  
Stark_Tony: It’s gotta be the vibranium core in the metal sheeting for the hull. 

Barnes_James: You did good Tony.  
Barnes_ James: Let’s just hope she holds up in close combat…

Bucky let out a sigh, closing down his chat window. He refocused his attention on the battle before them. There was no doubt, this was going to be the start of a real war. 

“Rogers- what is the plan?” Fury demanded from behind him while Hill announced the two minute mark. 

“With your permission sir, wait for my command.” Steve said, not turning around to look at Fury. 

“Rogers, so help me god, if you get my men killed I will have you court martialed in every galaxy from here to z8_GND_5296.” He muttered. When Steve did not respond, he threw his hands up in exasperation. “Fine. Barton, Romanov, you will hold your fire until Roger’s command.” He held up his hands as both of the crew members began to protest. They quickly quieted, but Bucky could feel the frustration and anxiety in the room coming to a boil. 

“Natasha,” Bucky began quietly. “I would muster your close combat troops. Prepare for boarding procedures.” Bucky said, eyes flicking to Steve. He glanced over and gave Bucky a terse nod. Natasha watched the exchange with interest, raising an eyebrow. She said nothing, but Bucky knew she would likely corner him later. 

“Boarding troops alpha, please report to your assigned muster point.” Natasha said quietly into her microphone, quickly opening access to weapons storage and armor kits from her console. “Gather in ready formation and wait for further instruction.” She said. 

“We are in firing range.” Hill said, loudly. There was a beat and then the entire bridge rocked back in their seats. “A direct hit to the right side of the bridge.” Hill said. 

“Minor damage. We can’t take too many more hits like that.” Tony’s voice cracked to life over the same feed as before. Though Bucky thought the awe from before had been fully replaced with caution. As much as surprise was not a typical emotion from Tony Stark, caution and fear were even less expected. Though, Bucky reflected, it was not everyday that you fought in your first battle. The hair on the back of Bucky’s neck stood up straight. 

“They are firing at regular intervals.” Natasha said, her tone fraught with anger. 

“Hold your fire!” Steve barked from his station, eyes locked ahead, knuckles white where his hands gripped his console edges. 

“Sir…” Barton began, hands gesturing uselessly in front of him. 

“Rogers…” Fury said at the same time, voice low. The entire bridge had gone very quiet, watching the interaction as it unfolded before them. They seemed enthralled by the melodrama, watching an outsider commit what could easily be categorized as insubordination if Steve were not special council. 

Without warning another crash rocked the ship’s occupants, breaking the spell and setting off another wave of anxious whispers. 

“Hull is still holding.” Hill reported. “Stark is reverting power from internal systems to shield maintenance.” She said. Her voice was steady as always, but Bucky thought he could feel the stress of the situation eating away at her calm demeanor. 

“Rogers this is ridiculous.” Fury began, raising his hand to signal an attack on the enemy vessel. Looking forward, the other ship was so close in the screen that Bucky wondered if he would start to see every scratch on the hull, every rivet in the steel exterior.

“Not yet, sir.” Steve said, voice sure despite another hit rocking the ship hard to the left. 

“Barton!” Fury said, voice harsh and unforgiving. 

“Sir.” Bucky said, voice strong and calm. “Listen to Rogers, I think we should trust his expertise here.” He said, wincing as another shot shook the bridge, undermining his point. 

“You two are going to get us all killed.” Fury muttered, closing his one good eye. “Wait for the command, Barton.” Fury said again, steepling his hands beneath his chin. 

“We’re now in range for short missiles and torpedos, sir.” Hill said. “We will begin to take real damage soon sir. I don’t care how much vibranium Stark has loaded us up with, we cannot withstand a barrage from this range. It’s suicide.” She shouted. 

“Brace for heavy impact.” Fury ordered. The bridge sprang into action, each member of the crew securing themselves down into their station. Faces filled with excitement 30 minutes ago were now ashen with fear. Pepper frowned down at her console, one hand gripping her headphone against her ear. Peter Parker placed a hand on Wilson’s arm, turning away from the navigation console to face fully forward. 

Another hit rocked the ship. This time the crew were all jerked against their restraints, the entire ship taking a hard knock to the right. 

“Minor hull damage.” Stark’s voice echoed across the bridge. “No breach.” 

“Wait.” Steve muttered. A stunned silence fell over the bridge, all eyes focusing forwards as they waited for the next command. Most people had gone still at their assigned station. Without any orders to attack they were simply flying closer and closer to certain destruction; for most of the crew there was nothing they could do but watch and wait. 

“Steve,” Bucky muttered quietly, reaching his own limit. Steve looked forward, head bobbing slowly. He was counting, Bucky realized, watching each rhythmic dip of his chin. 

“Barton, fire everything you’ve got, now!” Steve shouted. With a startled yip, Barton shot forward, activating all available weapon cells. A few moments later, a field of ammunition flew out across the view from the bridge. A vast array of weapons streaked towards the enemy vessel. 

As soon as the missiles had cleared the ship, a great blast hit the side of the bridge. The scream of bending metal and blare of a breach alarm flooded the bridge. Bucky could smell acrid smoke. The crew was thrown to the left, belts biting into shoulders and limbs flailing in the air. 

“Minor breach, right of the bridge hull.” Stark’s voice echoed over the groans. “Repair underway.” As the crew settled back into their seats slowly, quiet chatter erupted. Bucky looked over at Steve, seeing him still hunched over his desk. Thin tendrils of black smoke leaked onto the bridge, making the air hazy and giving Bucky a headache.

“Steve! You okay?” He said. The other man glanced over at him slowly. 

“Whiplash is a bitch.” Steve said, wincing. Bucky let out a hysterical chuckle, turning back towards the front of the bridge. He glanced towards the enemy ship and did a quick double take. 

“Holy shit.” He said softly. “Steve.” He said again, pointing at the scene in front of them. Amidst the smoke, dense and dark as it was, they could clearly see that the enemy vessel’s left engine was blown clean off. “Steve.” Bucky said again, excitement mounting. “Their left engine!” Bucky brought up more schematics, quickly reading through some detailed figures. 

“Captain Fury, they do have one reserve engine on board, but we have taken out a significant amount of their mobility.” Bucky reported, and a cheer went up across the bridge. 

“Barnes!” Natasha said harshly from behind him. “What is the gun array like on that ship. Is it one of the modified hulls, with those massive side arrays?” She asked tersely, eyes focused ahead. 

Bucky quickly scanned through his notes, comparing the visuals in front of him to images of the ship from before the fighting began. “Yes, it has a heavily modified side arsenal. Totally devastating.” He responded. 

“Have we been taking hits from the side array or the front array?” Natasha asked, her voice growing lower and quieter. Bucky felt cold fear pool in the bottom of his stomach. On his console, he quickly brought up a map that indicated the positions throughout the ongoing battle. 

“The front array.” He said quickly. “We’ve been taking hits from the front array.” He glanced up at Natasha who gestured towards the front of the bridge with a flick of her wrist. 

“We’re practically on top of them.” She muttered. “And they’re turning to port.” She continued. Bucky’s eyes flicked up, assessing the trajectory of the enemy ship. 

“They’re going to broadside us.” Bucky muttered. He turned towards Steve and raised his voice, panic fraying the edges. “They’re preparing to broadside us”. Steve glanced at Bucky, brows furrowed and then back towards the ship in front of them. 

“I thought you said frigates are stronger from front attack.” Steve said. “Why would they turn their weak side to our strong?” 

“It’s a hydra mod. Totally impractical unless you literally do nothing but fire weapons at other people.” Bucky explained, voice low. He quickly transferred files over to Steve. The clean lines of ship plans were overlaid by Bucky’s messy handwriting. Sketched in was a harrowing set of weapons, a warship transformed into a machine of total war. Steve stared at the diagram in disbelief. 

“Fuck.” He said, scrambling back to his battle projections. “Fuck!” He said again. “We’re moving too fast, there’s no way we can maintain a safe distance.” He said in exasperation. 

“Fury, we need to get the fuck outta here!” Steve shouted. Fury sat forward in his chair, eyes narrowing. “If they turn broadside, they’re going to blast us to kingdom come!” Steve shouted. Bucky’s eyes narrowed 

“They’re also cutting off our current route. If we continue in this direction, not only are we a sitting target, but then we fly in front of their ship, continuing the broadside even as we pass them.” Bucky added, hands beginning to shake slightly as he worked through alternative routes in a simulation on his console. 

“What are the options?” He asked voice steady. 

“Not much.” Bucky said. “We’re in a wide stream, so no more trips to no man’s land, but also no slingshot effect.” He explained, studying the diagram of the other ship carefully. “Go for the far end, with the engines, flip around their backside. Their maneuverability vanishes when they’re down an engine, so it’ll take them too long to regroup and turn. A downside to all those guns, the ship gets too heavy.” He explained, watching the distance between the two ships grow disturbingly close. 

“Will we make it to the other end before impact?” Fury asked impatiently. 

“Only one way to find out.” Steve said, darkly, still focused on the projections in front of him.

“Wilson! Fly around the engine end of the ship, go, go, go!” Fury shouted, rooting back into his chair. 

With a loud yell, Wade pulled at the controls, forcing the ship away from it’s current path and towards the far end of the ship. Bucky watched the end of the ship approach, the glow of the engine intensifying as they got closer. Too close, Bucky thought absently. They were not going to clear the end of the ship. They would end up colliding with the enemy ships active engine. 

In the background Bucky could hear Wade letting out a frustrated yell and then he was slamming forward into his seat belts, body jerking against the console. 

“Front end collision with enemy ship.” Stark’s voice still came through despite the increased alarms echoing across the bridge. 

“I need solutions people!” Fury shouted as the bridge scrambled to free their vessel. 

“No response from hailing frequencies!” Pepper contributed, fingers rapping out an aggressive rhythm against her console. 

“I’m picking up a boarding order.” Wanda began, her voice shaking with stress. “They are going to try and take the ship by sheer force.” She said. Her eyes, wide with fear, met Bucky’s eyes. He wondered briefly if maybe he and Wanda had more in common than he had first thought. 

“We’re totally embedded in their engine compartment.” Wilson said from the pilot’s console. “We would have to reverse out with impulse engines and we don’t have enough force to push us free.” His voice was rough with anger. 

“All boarding troops prepare for entry near front damage. Equip flight suits and head to the initial breach.” Natasha ordered quietly into her earpiece. Bucky swallowed. The last time he had come to face to face with the Mayallian’s Hydra forces he hadn’t seen the light of day again for years afterwards. When he had resurfaced he had hardly recognized himself. 

“If they board us, we lose this battle.” Steve said, his voice harsh. He’d stood up, Bucky realized. Steve was faced towards Fury, fists balled by his sides in anger or anxiety, Bucky wasn’t sure. 

“I understand that, Captain.” Fury sneered. “But I haven’t heard any brilliant ideas about how to get us the fuck out of here.” He continued, pulling himself up to his full height and glaring Steve down over his console. This seemed to silence Steve for a moment. He turned back to his own console, sitting back in his chair with a frustrated sigh. 

“Sir, we could potentially shoot ourselves free.” Tony said, his voice cutting through the noise on the bridge. 

“Barton?” Fury asked, turning his attention to the weapon specialist. 

“It’s not impossible.” Barton said, an edge to his voice. “But it would be a huge risk. We’re lodged in their engine, full of ignitable fuel. If we could hit the connector joint with a small projectile, we could potentially knock the radiation containment unit out of alignment. It could wedge enough space into the joint to break it open, allowing the engine to open wider and our hull to escape. If we miss everyone here dies.” Baton explained quickly frowning at his console. 

“Do it, Barton.” Fury said, but Clint paused, hands hovering over the console. 

“Captain. Even a few degrees off and we blow the engine instead and kill everyone on both ships.” He explained. 

“It’s not worth the risk, sir.” Steve said vehemently. “Too many lives lay in the balance.” He continued. The bridge continued to buzz even as silence fell over the top portion. 

“Barnes can do it.” Romanov said quietly. Bucky whirled around to glare at her, eyes blazing with betrayal. 

“How much do you know? You promised not to tell them!” He muttered. 

“That was before we were all about to die.” She said, rolling her eyes. “Honestly grow up, James.” She said. Steve glanced at Bucky, eyebrows raising in question. 

“I am not the only person on board with special ops training. I got ahold of his file. I have some reliable connections in high places.” Natasha said shortly, gesturing towards Bucky. “Best shot in the known universe, in my opinion.” Clint made an offended noise, but she shrugged. “You said it yourself Clint. For anyone else the risk is too big.” She turned to look Bucky square in the eyes, crossing her arms. “But he can do it.” 

Bucky stood up quietly and walked to Clint’s station. He ran his metal hand across the vast array of tools at their disposal. The dials and switches seemed to sing beneath his fingers, glowing to life as he stood before them. A deep sense of familiarity settled over him as his mind settled into an eerily blank landscape.

“Bucky what is going on?” Steve asked, one hand reaching out towards him. 

“You know this was my only specification when I signed on?” He said, turning to face Fury. “That I wouldn’t have to do this.” He muttered. 

“No one is forcing you Barnes.” Fury said quietly. “But we are out of time and it is our only option.” 

“They have given the order to board!” Wanda yelled from the front of the bridge. Again, Bucky’s eyes met hers briefly. He could see so much of the fear in his own heart reflected in her eyes. 

“Fine.” Bucky said. Fury let out a relieved sigh and Natasha gave him a soft smile. He flicked open a small panel beside with console and without warning, shoved his metal hand into the inner workings of the console. 

With a harsh yell, the entire prosthetic lit up, glowing the same blue as all of the workstations on the bridge. It grew brighter and brighter until the light seemed to engulf the entire limb. 

“Bucky!” Steve shouted, but Bucky just leaned down over the console, his entire body realigning with the weapons system. Material moved across the screen faster than any human mind could process. Without looking up Bucky raised his flesh hand into the air and brought it down decisively onto the console, firing a single torpedo into space.

As quickly as it had flared up, the entire console shutdown. Bucky yanked his arm out, cradling the prosthetic against his torso. He hissed as it cooled against his stomach, hair falling out of it’s careful coiff, sweat beaded on his forehead. While Bucky doubled over his stomach, everyone’s eyes flicked to the front of the bridge, where the site of the collision was clearly visible. 

The entire ship seemed to hold it’s breath for a second. 

When the projectile made contact, it barely registered on screen. A small ping and a tiny flash of light. Then a metallic screech pierced the silence and the entire structure of the Mayallian ship began to move,, shattering the quietness on the bridge. 

“Wilson!” Fury shouted, as everyone ran for their seats and strapped in .

“Yes, sir!” Wade said, immediately powering the ship forward. With a great lurch, and the sound of metal wrenching itself apart, the UFF Avenger shot forward, totally free of the Mayallian ship. A great cheer went up across the bridge, people laughing in stunned relief. 

“No boarding party made contact.” Natasha reported, relief evident in her voice. “All troops return to battle stations.” She ordered, a small smile on her face. 

Bucky sat back down at his station, face dark and unresponsive. He had one foot up on his chair and his body curled around his arm, which sat in his lap. 

The ship swung around in a tight loop, coming back to face the other vessel. The entire bridge quieted as they took in the scene in front of them. One engine gone completely, the other torn in half. The ship sat immobile in the endless black of space. 

“The enemy ship is totally incapacitated. No working engines.” Hill reported, her voice scratchy and quiet. “Stark is making emergency repairs to breach sections and the collapsed front sections.” 

“Captain Fury!” Wanda’s excited voice broke through the noise. “They are signaling surrender.” She said, her face breaking into a large grin. Bucky finally looked up from his arm. Her face was so full of hope, such a stark contrast to only a few moments ago. 

“Potts, patch me through, Wanda, translate.” Fury ordered, walking down to the communication desks at the front of the bridge. 

“You okay?” Steve asked, far closer to his shoulder than Bucky realized. He jumped forward slightly, letting out a frustrated sigh. 

“Jesus Steve.” He said, placing his head down on his console briefly. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Well you’re pretty out of it.” Steve said, his hand coming to rest on Bucky’s left shoulder, the familiar weight of his arm spreading across his back. 

“Barnes! Rogers!” Fury yelled from the front of the bridge. Steve pulled his arm back instantly, coming to attention. Bucky merely sat back in his chair, already missing the warmth from Steve’s body. “Excellent work today. You are both responsible for the success of this battle.” He said with a hint of pride in his voice. 

Bucky smiled faintly before pitching forward slightly, wincing. 

“Rogers, get Barnes some medical attention.” Fury said, watching the scene unfold. “You are both dismissed.” 

Bucky let Steve support him as they walked out of the bridge. He leaned in, resting against Steve’s broad frame. There would be hell to pay for his actions, consequences both in his body and in his mind, but for now, he just wanted to enjoy the steady, heavy beating of Steve’s heart and the warm, clean scent of his uniform.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve have a serious talk and realizations are had by one and all. With some time away from the ship, they get an unexpected surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isaac Hull will be missed. Nobody likes Bainbridge. 
> 
> Fluff mostly! Plus kisses! Finally!

Chapter 8: At the Dock 

“You know, I'm not actually sure if you're incredibly brilliant or just incredibly dumb.” Bucky's voice creaked out, rough with disuse. Steve was sitting in a folding chair, propped up between the medbay bed and the wall. He looked terrible, eyes surrounded by shadowy bags and shoulders slumped forward in exhaustions. When Bucky spoke, he glanced up from the chair next to the bed, eyes shining bright. 

“Bucky!” He shouted nearly falling forward off the chair. He scrambled for purchase on the metal side of the hospital bed, fingers slipping against the thin edge. After a few seconds of fumbling, he did manage to find Bucky's hand, immediately interlacing their fingers. He leaned forward, chest pressing against the bed, clearly trying not to lean too much against Bucky’s body. 

“What?” Bucky rolled his eyes, squeezing Steve’s hand. “Is this where you tell me I've been out for 27 years and we lost the war and I am being held in a secret underground prison facility in the Mayallian capital?” He asked, mouth quirking up. He shifted slightly, feeling out the soreness in his limbs and the dull pain in his head. 

“No, our supreme evil overlords do not want me to tell you about the changes yet. They think the shock might send you into shock.” Steve said, scrunching up his brow. “They’ve built this room to be a precise replica of the medbay aboard the UFF Avenger but instead we are really under constant observation. But don’t worry, I have already devised a clever but deeply risky plan for us to escape and go on the run to join the resistance and live a dangerous but fulfilling life on the run with a renegade group of fellow dissidents who are waiting for us on Alpha Centauri.” Steve gave him a crooked grin. Bucky let out a breathy chuckle shifting around on the soft surface. Though the beds in medbay were extremely thin, they were coated in a super cushioned gel formula. Bucky made sure to keep his hand linked with Steve, pulling it closer to his chest as he turned to the side. 

“But actually.” Bucky said, trailing off, face tired and body slumped in on itself. 

“You’ve been out for about 12 hours.” Steve said, voice quieter. His face smoothed out, the small smile disappearing into a neutral expression. “Dr. Cho looked at you but she said that it was best to let you rest rather than administering more synth adrenaline.” Steve said, eyes searching Bucky’s face. 

“Yeah, generally after an overload like that my body just has to rest.” Bucky said. He stayed with his head to the side, body subtly curved toward Steve. There was a short silence, broken by a quiet cough from the door. 

“Captain, Barnes.” Dr. Cho said, entering the small room. “The computer informed me you were awake.” She said, smiling. “How are you feeling?” She asked, opening a window with her haptic and adding notes to Bucky’s medical file. 

“Tired, sore. Low level headache.” Bucky said, turning back over and slowly sitting up. He grunted as his body finally settled into a vertical position. “Mostly I feel like I got beat up and slept for 12 hours.” He said with a small smile. 

“As expected then.” She said, tapping out quick sentences into the database. “I will run a couple of quick tests but without any major surprises I feel comfortable recommending you for immediate release.” The doctor walked over towards the wall, opening another compartment with the same scanning device from the initial physical. She took several quick scans of Bucky’s body, focusing on his head and torso. 

 

“Immediate release?” Steve asked, leaning against the medbay table, forehead wrinkling. 

“Yes. There is no point in keeping him here if there isn’t anything else we can do for him.” Dr. Cho answered, slowly moving the small black device back and forth over the joint between Bucky’s torso and his prosthetic. Bucky slowly began to say forward more, the stress of the incident still weighing heavily on his energy levels. 

“Are you sure he’s well enough?” Steve insisted, swaying closer to Bucky. “What if something more serious is wrong?” He asked. Dr. Cho finished entering the data into the computer system and looked up towards Bucky’s face. 

“Well, you’re certainly going to be sore for a few days.” She said with a crooked smile, “but overall you look pretty good all things considered. Just a prescription for good old fashioned rest and relaxation. You’ll do that better in your own space anyway.” She continued, tapping against her pad again. “Alright, all set. You are officially discharged. I would recommend perhaps setting up some time to speak with Commander Stark about making sure the arm was not damaged. Not really my field, so I can’t speak for the mechanics.” She shrugged and turned towards Steve. “You keep him in check, Captain. Lots of rest for the next few days. Call me if there are any issues.” She said, with a flick of her hair, she walked out of the small room. Steve stared after her for a moment, torn between following orders and insisting on more long term care for Bucky. 

“Just leave it Steve.” Bucky murmured from the table. Without another glance at the door, Steve reached down, right arm coming up to support Bucky’s shoulders. 

“Are you sure though? You seem really out of it still.” He said, his left hand fluttered uselessly around the front of his body, his anxious attitude filled the room with a tense silence. 

“This is how this works, Steve. The arm isn’t really built to withstand that amount of power, but it is pretty well protected in case it ever happened inadvertently. I will be fine but right now I’ve gotta get some more rest so you have to help get me to my room.” Bucky said, leaning more heavily against Steve’s shoulder. 

“Okay.” Steve said, nodding his head. “I can do that.” Steve slid the arm around Bucky’s shoulder lower, slipping underneath his arm. His legs braced against the ground. “Can you get off the table?” He asked, gently pushing forward against Bucky’s shoulders. 

“I think so.” Bucky said quietly. With a shudder he shifted forward, sliding his weight off of the table. His feet hit the ground with a rough grunt, the momentum causing his body to pitch forward slightly. 

“Whoa.” Steve said. “Easy.” He tightened his hold against Bucky’s ribs, taking a good portion of Bucky’s weight onto his own shoulders. “You’re alright.” Steve said, keeping a quiet litany of encouragement.

“Thanks, Steve.” Bucky said bringing his own arm up to wrap around Steve’s waist from behind. They stood for a moment in the relative quiet of medbay. Faintly, the busy waiting room could be heard from the other side of the wall and there was the ever present hum of the ship's engines. “Right, no time like the present. Let’s go.” Bucky said, taking a tentative step forward towards the door. Steve shifted with him, his own feet shuffling forward across the smooth floors. 

Together they managed to plod back to Bucky’s quarters, entering the space with a great woosh of the sliding doors. Bucky sighed, looking around. 

“It feels like it’s been a year since I was last in here.” He said, head twisting to look at Steve’s expression. He could see the books left sprawled across his desk, the small army figurines scattered across screen, chair and floor. They must have knocked them over in the rush to leave. There was something eerie about the whole set up; a scene frozen in time and left mid thought. 

“It hasn’t even been a day.” Steve said, softly. His own eyes roaming around the space. 

“ ‘S been a pretty long day though.” Bucky countered. Steve looked towards Bucky then, their faces barely inches apart. “Help me get to bed.” Bucky said, voice scratchy in the back of his throat. Steve swallowed visibly, but nodded, turning his head back towards the entrance to Bucky’s bedroom. 

A few more moments of awkward shuffle steps later and Bucky was able to twist his body down into the sheets, all the air rushing from his lungs. 

“Okay Bucky, get some sleep.” Steve said, helping to slip Bucky into between the covers of his bed. He lingered by his relaxed form. 

“I probably shouldn’t be left alone.” Bucky muttered quietly from the bed. Steve lifted a hand to Bucky’s hair, mussed by his time in med bay. 

“You should probably take a sonic shower when you get up.” He said, voice quiet. “Get cleaned up.” 

“Nah, sonic showers bother the mechanisms in the arm. Probably done enough damage to her today. I get a real bathtub.” Despite the sleep in his voice, Steve could clearly hear the smugness in Bucky’s tone. 

“You are one luck son of a bitch.” Steve said fondly, taking a step backward from Bucky’s bedside. 

“You can try it tomorrow if you want. After you stay here, with me.” Bucky says, voice even quieter. The silence in the room grew heavy with unspoken words. “Please, Steve.” He continued. Steve sighed, clearly defeated. 

“I’ll be out on the couch, Bucky.” He tried again, taking another small step backwards. 

“Steve, do not argue with the invalid. I shouldn’t be left alone. So get your blonde, perfect ass into my bed.” The statement sleep muffled and quiet. Steve couldn’t help but smile softly, moving back towards the bed. After another moment of hesitation, Steve settled into the opposite side of the bed, reaching out a hand to play with Bucky’s hair. He sighed in contented relief, settling back against Steve’s front. With practiced ease, Steve reached over to the nightstand, hitting the button for total darkness. 

He was asleep before the lights fully dimmed to black. 

_____________________________________________________________

Steve groaned. He body was sleep warm and stiff from spending too long in one position. He rolled onto his back, slowly remembering the evening before. He finally opened his eyes, glancing around Bucky’s bedroom. 

Steve could see the tension headache coming a mile away. It was too much, waking up in Bucky’s bed, surrounded by the scent of his room, audible slow, sleepy breathing right next to him. Steve sighed, scewing his eyes shut. Bucky would likely need help during the day. Clean clothes, a good meal, reports written. No point in lying in bed, thinking about couldn’t-be futures when there were already tasks that needed doing. Without giving the situation any more thought, Steve rolled out of bed and made his way back to the front room. 

In contrast to the heady fantasies of the bedroom, the chill of the open space cleared his head slightly. He set about cleaning up the mess, reorganizing the items from the day before and clearing the table. Once he had scrubbed down the surface, he set about crafting an ideal menu for recovery. Half way through the possible omelet add-ins list, Steve heard the sound of shuffling sheets from the adjacent room. He quickly finished the order, pressing submit just as Bucky’s scrunched up face appeared in the doorway. 

“G’morning.” Bucky said. “Is it morning?” Bucky asked, plodding over to the other chair at the table Slowly hot food was materializing across its surface, eggs and muffins and steaming cups of coffee phasing into existence. 

“Time is relative.” Steve shrugged. Bucky gave him an unimpressed look. “Yeah, it’s 8:45 am or so.” Steve said, glancing towards the clock on the wall. He shrugged. 

“Good.” Bucky muttered. “Sleep schedule isn’t too badly affected then.” He took a long sip of his coffee, letting out a soft sigh. “Thanks for the food.” He said. Steve nodded, still not sure about the proper etiquette for morning after battle breakfast. 

“Look.” Bucky began around a mouthful of blueberry muffin. “I owe you some kind of explanation.” Bucky said, voice growing serious. 

“Buck, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to…” Steve said, trailing off. “I’d be happy to talk through whatever it is you need to talk about right now, but this might not be the best reason to go spilling your darkest secrets.” He finished cautiously. 

“No, I think it’s best you heard it from me. God knows what the rest of the ship is saying.” Bucky rolled his eyes, taking another bite of muffin. 

“Alright, I’m all ears then.” Steve said, taking a large bite of bacon and egg. 

“During the revolution I was serving in the flight school aboard one of the ships that the Andromeda sector lent us for battle. I’d flown a few times as a kid and I guess that was as much experience as you needed to be thrown into a space war.” Bucky shrugged, looking down into his coffee. “We needed the men, but it came at a pretty heavy price. We suffered through a pretty horrific battle.” Bucky said, eyes glazing over. “Ship was torn to pieces but, lucky me, I got pulled to safety aboard the Mayallian vessel. Kidnapped and imprisoned as an enemy combatant and war criminal.” Steve took another large bite of food, nodding along with Bucky’s explanation.

“Turns out a few things had stuck from our piss poor training. I was a pretty okay marksman. Certainly not good enough to change the face of the war, but talented and impressionable. That’s what they called it… impressionable. They really meant brainwash-able. I was young and very susceptible to mental inhibitors and hypnotism” Bucky shrugged. “Either way the results were the same. I was tortured pretty brutally. Injected with life-extenders, vitamins and catalysts, I began to show drastic signs of improvement. I studied under a Mayallian master. While my body was built up, they physically tortured me into obedience.” Steve made a small noise in the back of his throat. 

“Don’t worry too much about it, Stevie. I hardly remember any of it. Mostly it’s just a blur. The combination of the physical and mental torment, I basically became a vacant body. And I did awful, atrocious things, Steve. Mostly I worked as an assassin. I was so clearly not Mayallian, that it was easier for me to infiltrate other organizations rather than one of their own spies. I had some pretty infamous kills.” Bucky glanced up at Steve, wincing. However, Steve did not meet his eyes, his vacant gaze directed toward a nearby wall. 

“I killed a lot of people, a lot of whom were innocent. I was like a laser cannon  
, align the target and shoot. Eventually, I ended up stranded on a frozen deserted planet after a botched extraction.” Bucky another deep breath, pushing some of the congealing egg around on his plate. “Long story, kind of short, basically I ended up trapped in a gorge. I did manage to free myself, but only by forcibly shattering both bones in my left arm. After that my memory really is gone. I think through a combination of time away from my captors, immense pain, and all the adrenaline, the programming they had used on me had worn off slightly. Enough for me to start to fight against it, at least. I was able to find a United Federation of Earth outpost on the planet. Somehow I ended up back there.” Bucky said, sipping from his cold coffee. There were a few moments of silence. 

“Bucky…” Steve began, voice strained. 

“Hold on.” Bucky said, not making eye contact. “Turns out I had just killed someone at that outpost, so they were pretty confused about what to do with me. Apparently I was catatonic and non-communicative.” Bucky sighed. “By the time they realized how badly I needed medical assistance there was nothing they could do about the arm. Totally necrotic tissue. Showing early signs of infection. There was nothing left to save. Anyway, closed trials, military tribunals, and psychologist evaluations later they deemed me a non-threat and set me up with Tony.” Bucky chuckled. “As a, wow sorry you got kidnapped, brainwashed and used for horrific acts of violence for a little while there.” BUcky pushed back from the table and got up, walking around the room. “Did you clean?” He asked, twisting around. 

“What?” Steve asked, startled out of his thoughts. “Oh, yeah. I, uh, needed something to do with my hands, to be honest.” He said, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. “But, Buck, holy shit.” He began, getting up from the chair. He walked a few steps toward him. Bucky did not back away, but his body curled in on itself slightly. Steve stopped moving forward. “I mean, I knew the rough outline of it. But I had no idea… just no idea.” Steve said, sat a loss for words. There was a moment of quiet. 

“It probably explains a few things.” Bucky said quietly, a small smile on his face. 

“I mean, it explains why you always beat me ass in hand to hand.” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “But it still mystifies me how bad you are at strategizing for battle.” He walked toward the other side of the room, closer and closer to Bucky. 

“I was a sniper, Steve. I worked alone, single bullet style shit.” He said, sticking out his tongue. 

“But in all honesty, I understand now.” Steve said quietly, coming to a stop directly in front of Bucky. He could see the shallow breaths in Bucky’s chest and the slight shaking in his fingers. Without overthinking the action, Steve raised a hand, pressing Bucky into his chest. 

“I’m tired Stevie.” Bucky muttered against his shoulder. 

“Wanna marathon the Lord of the Ring movies or whatever they were called?” Steve asked, rubbing his hand up and down Bucky’s spine. “Curl up on the couch for a bit. I promise I won’t make fun of your war elephants.” Bucky chuckled low in his chest. 

“Yeah okay. Sounds like a plan.” He said, sleepily, smiling into the crease of Steve’s shoulder. With great effort, Steve managed to keep his own breathing steady, despite the wetness gathering in the corner of his eyes. 

______________________________________________________________

 

“I am really starting to hate this place. We’re only ever here for emergency repairs.” Natasha muttered next to Bucky in the transport line. The bustling dock was phasing into existence around them, workers and visitors milling around the cavernous space. 

“I mean yeah but like, you can’t totally discount it. The food carts here serve non-replicated food. Say what you want but replicated cheese just doesn’t melt right.” Bucky said, frowning at her. She scoffed, rolling her eyes. 

“Coffee! Natasha! Real fucking coffee!” Clint said from her other side, twisting around as the noises of the dock came into full volume. “I’m telling you it’s a conspiracy. They say they replicate espresso but I think they just replicate instant coffee and then laugh about it.” Clint said, frowning. 

“Okay, okay boys.” Natasha said. “I will admit. I dream about the korean restaurant in the south corner of the navy yard with some frequency. And the donuts next door.” Natasha gave a small smile. “We should have a meal together, tonight.” She said. Clint agreed enthusiastically. Natasha turned around to look back towards Bucky. 

“I think the honoring ceremony for Fury is tomorrow night, so we gotta have fun while we can.” Clint said with a nod. 

“What do you think will happen?” Bucky asked as the group began to walk towards the exit. 

“Well Fury is gonna get promoted and then promptly find himself behind some stuffy admiral desk and we’ll get a new captain. That’s why we gotta party tonight before some new hardass comes in and ruins the fun.” Clint explained with a smile. 

“I don’t even want to imagine the poor bastard that gets saddled with this crew’s fuckery.” Natasha muttered. “I want a donut, come on.” She said, pulling on Clint’s arm. He gave a happy whoop and jogged off towards the exit. Natasha looked after him for a moment and then turned abruptly to face Bucky. 

“Look, I know that reading your file was a pretty monumental betrayal of trust. But I understand what you went through.” She said, with a small smile. “We are more similar than you think. Wanda too. You’re not alone in this.” She continued. “And I think you could really benefit from spending some time with one of us, or both, or whatever. Just something to think about. 

Bucky nodded slowly, pushing his hair behind his ear. His body had largely healed over the last few days, though the motion twinged his shoulder slightly. 

“You should come too, if you want. To dinner I mean.” She said, smiling. 

“Okay.” Bucky said, voice small. Natasha gave a small wave and went to catch up with Clint. “Bring Steve, too!” She shouted back over her shoulder, with a wink. Bucky blushed and began to walk in the opposite direction. He had an appointment at the tech center in the yard to recalibrate the arm and Tony would kill him if he was late.   
____________________________________________________________

Turns out that promotion ceremonies are pretty formal events, Bucky mused from his spot in the audience. He was seated in the front row, between Steve and Wanda. The entire crew was at the front of the auditorium, as part of the program was meant to honor the crew for their bravery in the recent battle. 

Mostly the evening was comprised of long, boring speeches about the nature of war and the necessity of fighting. Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the tight dress uniform pulling across his chest. Even though he had been discharged quietly after the accident, they still decided to force him into dress blues for the evening. Bucky took consolation in the fact that everyone else also seemed to be bored to tears. He was pretty sure Tony and Bruce were playing a game of digital micro-chess on the armrest between their chairs. Clint had checked out about five minutes into the first speaker. Natasha was clearly reading news feeds in her lap, using the folds of her skirt to obscure the light from the screen.

As they finally approached the close of the program, the evening had followed along according to expectation. Medals and awards were handed out, commendations read aloud. Fury was now Admiral Fury, a title which seemed to give him absolutely no joy. 

As part of his transition into his new role, both him and Maria Hill would be leaving the UFF Avenger to assume command posts back in the Terran sector of the galaxy. No more galavanting off to fight enemy vessels for either of them. This, of course, begged the question of the captaincy. 

The night before the crew had thrown around ideas- members of the crew who might do well as their supreme leader. Secretly Bucky thought none of them were really ‘captain’ material, to be perfectly blunt. They’d been picked for their roles very carefully and not only would they likely struggle with the new assignment, but the ship would lose valuable, experienced crew. 

Briefly, there was discussion about a captain switching from another ship onboard. T’Challa sounded promising, the active captain of the UFF Panther, a sister ship to the Avenger. But Bucky had read some of their crew reports and their record was spotless. You didn’t split up a crew who worked together that well. 

Honestly, he really couldn’t begin to guess who they were about to bring into the role. 

“Please welcome Admiral Fury back to the podium.” The aid spoke from the stage. Fury huffed back up to the microphone, face sullen. 

“I am here to clarify the role of the captain going forward aboard the UFF Avenger. To be blunt, we are short on men and short on leadership in the military at the moment. Our good men and women are already doing good work in their positions. There was certainly no clear choice in this matter and I can’t say that I have an overwhelming amount of confidence in the choice we made. However, it had to be done.” He shifted slightly, clearing his throat. “The person we have chosen has an excellent understanding of war, a knack for strategic planning, decent interpersonal skills, and a whole hell of a lot of luck, most of the necessary components for running this ship and her crew. It is probably going to upset most, if not all of you, but from here into the future, the captain of the UFF Avenger is Captain Steven Grant Rogers.” Fury said, stepping back from the microphone. 

There was a long pause before the auditorium erupted in applause. The entire crew began to laugh, clap or, in Tony’s case, cat call. Steve, for his part, sat in stunned silence before slowly making his way up to the stage. 

Bucky sat in shock mostly, hands clapping out of instinct. Steve was going to be captain? Played in his mind on loop. 

“Thank you for this opportunity.” Steve said, cheeks pink. “I, uh, I accept.” He said, voice slightly unsure. This lead to another round of enthusiastic applause. While Steve shook hands with the top brass up front, the rest of the audience was dismissed, the large mass of people milling around as they slowly exited the auditorium. 

The crew stayed near their seats, creating a mob of hugs and laughter when Steve finally rejoined them. He was smiling now, a grin slipping his face in half. There were many congratulations, happy wishes and claps on the shoulder until Steve finally made it back to Bucky. 

He gathered Bucky into a tight hug, both of them laughing. Bucky leaned back to look at him, leaving his arms around his waist. 

“Holy shit Steve!” He said with a giggle. “I can’t believe it! I mean, Captain Steve, right.” 

“Shut up.” Steve muttered, grinning. 

“I mean, at least you won’t have to change your business cards, right Captain Rogers?” Bucky said with a smirk. 

Steve looked at him quietly for a long moment, eyes soft. With the cheers of their crew in the background, Steve leaned in to kiss Bucky, their lips meeting in a chaste touch. 

Bucky’s mind joined the background cheering, happiness fizzling through his veins as he pushed in closer to Steve deepening the kiss. When they finally pulled apart, grinning like idiots, there were definitely a few more cat calls mixed into the general happy ruckus. 

“Captain.” Natasha’s voice came from over Bucky’s shoulder. She sounded extremely serious, her tone low and firm. Steve immediately sobered, turning to face her while keeping one arm around Bucky’s waist. 

“The USF Constellation was just captured by the Mayallians.” She said, voice low. Her news feed still glowed in her hands, now emitting a deep red of an emergency warning. 

The entire group sobered, quickly moving towards the exits and checking their personal notifications. Soon enough the alarm for the entire navy yard was blaring, spreading the news across the fleet. 

“Right back to it, I guess.” Steve said to Bucky as they walked quickly towards the Avenger, both awaiting orders. 

As the bustling navy yard burst to life around them, Bucky slid his hand into Steve’s, grip tightening.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several months after his promotion, things have settled for Steve and Bucky. However, they can't avoid their problems forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frank discussions about the nature of war and people dying. This sets up a big battle, so it's not a happy feel good chat.
> 
> First half of the battle against he HMS Java.

Bucky rolled over, legs tangled up in the sheets. He stretched to the side, arms finding warm pillows and mussed sheets. He sat up, stretching his back languidly. He could hear the shower running in the next room. Satisfied, he shuffled out of bed, meandering around the room. He found a pair of his boxers thrown across the back of a chair and put them on, pausing for a moment to stretch over his head. One advantage to dating the captain was a definite upgrade in quarters. Bucky’s rooms were nice, to be sure, definitely a step up from the shared bunks most of the men aboard dealt with, but still these were a completely different game. 

He left the bedroom, wandering through the main room and flopping down onto the oversized couch. Bucky contemplated ordering breakfast, but decided he would rather wait and see what Steve wanted. Knowing his appetite he would probably eat just about anything put in front of him. 

Bucky using his metal hand to open a screen and began playing three dimensional solitaire. A few frustrated sighs later, he heard the shower switch off. When he finished his game, finally victorious against the computer, he heard a small chuckle from the door to the bedroom. He glanced up to find Steve, standing in only a towel, leaning against the doorframe. 

“What?” He asked, voice playful. He moved to stand up, shifting his weight to his feet while Steve moved further into the room. His body was still moist from the shower, blond hair turned dark against his head. Bucky took a second to admire the other man. Steve, for his own part, basked in the attention, walking towards Bucky with a confident swagger. 

Bucky held back a chuckle instead coming forward to meet Steve part way. 

“G’morning.” Steve murmured, placing his hands against bucky’s hips. 

“Mmmm, g’morning.” Bucky said in return, shuffling forward again. He placed a light kiss on Steve’s mouth, soft and warm from the shower. 

“Brush your teeth, Buck.” Steve said quietly, chuckling under his breath and pushing back from the other man. “We don’t have time to get into this anyway. Gotta be on the bridge pretty soon.” 

“Picky, picky.” Bucky said back as he walked towards the bathroom. “Pick something for breakfast while I’m gone.” He said with a wave of his hand. Steve watched him go for a moment, breathing in the quiet of the captain’s quarters. The familiar ping of his email shook him out of his reverie and he moved through to the dining area. He used his haptic to run through the new emails quickly while ordering a large meal. His time was shortened in his new position, so he had become a much better multitasker in the past few months. 

As the food materialized on the table Steve went back to the bedroom, discarding the towel along the way. He walked to the closet, pulling out one of the pre-pressed command uniforms from the hangar. The closet instantly advanced the other uniforms down the line, creating a seamless transition day to day. As he began to pull on his pants, he heard a cat call from the doorway. 

“Hey there sexy.” Bucky said with a lecherous wink. Steve straightened up and turned around just long enough to roll his eyes in Bucky’s direction. 

“Food is on the table, weirdo.” Steve said, going back to putting on his uniform. Bucky hummed in agreement. He moved over to the dresser, pulling out a uniform of his own. They both dressed in silence before heading back to the dining room and tucking into their meal.  
_________________________________________________________

In many ways the bridge was the same as before. People remained at their stations, engrossed in their work. Aside from a few close calls here and there, the Avenger had not had any major incidents since that first battle. Most days life on the bridge involved fairly wrote, routine work interspersed with the group chat. Even then the group chat was largely an excuse for Clint to force the entire crew to look at memes. Turns out that a weapon specialist didn’t do much between battles and Clint employed creative problem solving to occupy his time, hence the memes. 

Bucky slid across the desk, expanding the schematic in front of him to assess a small detail in the fuselage. 

That isn’t to say that nothing had changed. Bucky glanced to his right. He no longer shared the desk, though Steve had not moved very far away, only a few feet behind him. Still, he felt the absence more than he cared to admit. Steve was a different leader than Fury, to the extreme. For every instance where Fury was taciturn and strict, Steve countered with openness and humor. It was certainly a welcome change to a certain extent and the bridge buzzed with positive energy constantly. 

Still it felt like the other shoe must drop, eventually. Bucky mused, carefully adjusting some ratios in a calculation of dimension on the side of his screen. Once the crew saw battle, surely their entire happy synergy would be put to the test in the worst way possible. Even the conflict with Fury at the helm changed the crew dynamics, and that involved nearly no casualties for the navy. The hull damage took several days to repair in port, but overall it was certainly not a catastrophe. Yet it felt more and more like an inevitability to Bucky. The Mayallians kept upgrading their ships. More and more the United Federation forces came up against enemies they could not defeat. Bucky sighed, closing down the program he was using to edit the drawings. He needed a break from overanalyzing their chances of actually defeating these new models. He distracted himself by chatting with Tony about engine specs. Nice and safe. Engine specs generally had little to do with battle. Plus, the constant stream of numbers from Stark was calming and set Bucky at easy, even when Stark delved too deep into theory and Bucky lost his train of thought. 

“Sir.” A quiet voice piped up from the front of the bridge. Bucky glanced up from his chat bubble to see Wanda, squinting down at her console. Bucky and Wanda had built a tentative friendship. They were careful to construct connection outside of trauma, but Natasha was right, knowing someone else who had been in your shoes can make all the difference. 

“What is it Wanda? Steve asked, voice low. Bucky thought about that morning, how low and gravely Steve’s voice in right after getting up. It was a totally different effect. 

“Sit I am picking up a Mayallian ship ahead of us in this stream. They are not moving, stationary in their position. And they’re, well, they’re broadcasting a message of intent to engage for all enemy combatants.” She finished, fingers still working at the nobs on her station. 

“There are no alternative routes to avoid their presence, sir. We are locked into this stream until past their location.” Peter Parker said from the from console. There was a sort of eerie silence on the bridge as the crew processed the new information. 

Bucky felt a familiar unease settle into his stomach. He had grown so accustomed to the Steve who sneaks muffins at 2 in the morning because of his stupid metabolism, the Steve who watches old earth cartoons and is obsessed with hand drawn animation, the Steve who lazily runs his fingers through Bucky’s hair in the evenings. It was hard to reconcile Steve with the intensity of the Captain seated behind him. Steve was always engaged fully in his work, something Bucky found endearing, but it has been a few months since that work involved battle. 

Maybe he was overreacting. Steve had shown a willingness to avoid conflict before, maybe now as Captain he would do so again. 

“Prepare long range weapons. Assume battle stations alpha.” Steve said, voice cutting through the unusual quietness on the bridge. Bucky felt the unease in his stomach solidify into something more tangible. Fear. 

“Captain, are you sure that’s wise?” Natasha asked. Her voice was low so that only the immediate bridge crew could hear her voice, but it remained firm. Bucky turned around to watch the conversation unfold. 

“Our odds improve significantly if we start preparing early. Many of our long range weapons are far more effective than the Mayallian counterpart.” Steve said, frowning at Natasha. She remained at her station on the riser below Steve, however it was fairly common knowledge that she should be promoted to his second in command. Steve had confided in Bucky late one night that he couldn’t spare her off her security duties, so he was delaying asking her to move into the recently vacated position. By the three month mark most of the duties for the second in command had been dispersed out over the bridge and no one in the crew was in a rush to upset the delicate balance of power that the bridge had managed to find post Admiral Fury’s departure. 

“I understand that sir, but we have little information about the enemy vessel. I understand that they are broadcasting intent, but we may be able to delay conflict if it is not the optimal course of action.” She said carefully. “I just think we need more information before making committed choices.”

“Barnes, do you have specs for the ship?” Steve asked, turning towards Bucky, his eyes were hard and intense as he stared down the bridge towards Bucky’s desk. Bucky nodded quickly and turned back to his work station. They were within range for sensors to pick up basic information about the ship. He made some quick notes classing it out within the Mayallian navy. 

“She’s actually pretty similar to us.” Bucky said. “She’s the same size, same gun array. No current damage. It would be a pretty difficult matchup, neither side would have the upper hand.” He finished, turning back around to face the top of the bridge. 

“Captain, I think we should pursue other options. The Mayallian crew are battle trained and tested. We have barely scraped through two major incidents.” Natasha said, the urgency in her voice more obvious as Steve’s expression grew harder. 

“I think it is high time that we tested our skills then.” Steve said, voice steady. “We cannot expect to win a war without fighting.” He grit out through his teeth. 

“We can’t expect to win this war at all,” Bucky said, “so we can at least try and mitigate the casualties.” He ground out. 

“Bucky, this isn’t the place for this.” Steve said, voice low. Natasha bowed out of the discussion, suddenly busy with her console. 

“But it is the time, Steve.” Bucky said, rising out of his chair. 

“Fine.” Steve said, heaving out a sigh. “Let’s talk in the command office.” He said, gesturing toward the far side of the bridge. A door lead to a private office, usually reserved for the Captain to do work or take private diplomatic meetings. Steve stalked from the command station towards this door, not bothering to look back and check if Bucky was following. Despite Steve’s obvious discomfort, Bucky did follow him, unwilling to give up on this argument before it even began. Sure, the dynamic between them had shifted when Steve became Captain. Aside from the obvious shift of rank, it was also when their relationship began. 

Sometimes the intricacies of their work and personal relationships made Bucky’s head spin. Most days he tried not to think too hard about how they would make this work in the long term, pretended that their differences were somehow a minor obstacle to their continued relationship. 

Bucky stepped into Steve’s office, quietly walking a few paces and then stopping short, letting Steve pace around the space. 

“You can’t bring personal problems onto the bridge, Buck.” Steve said, finally turning to face him. He ran a hand through his hair, knocking a few strands out of place. 

“What are you talking about?” Bucky asked, walking closer to Steve. The office was not a large room and the auto-lights were fairly dim, leaving them in a wash of shadows. 

“I know that the idea of battle makes you uncomfortable.” Steve began, sighing. He shifted slightly closer to Bucky but did not reach out to touch him. “And I get it, I really do. But that kind of pointless moralizing argument just sews distrust on the bridge and unsettles a crew. Everyone out there signed up for a war, Bucky and that includes you.” Steve said, face hardening. “I struggle enough to maintain some semblance of respect with this crew and you cannot undermine me just because we are in a relationship.” Steve continued, voice growing in volume. 

“Jesus Steve. I knew that the Captaincy had gone to your head a bit but I didn’t think you were that self obsessed.I am not throwing a fit to undermine you and this argument has nothing to do with our personal relationship. I fought Fury on his violent tactics and I would fight anyone else about them too.” Bucky said, taking a step back from Steve. “If anything our relationship has made me kinder and less proactive against the war.” Bucky threw his hands up in the air. “Hell, I did sign up for this war but I signed up to save people, not to kill them. And you know that Captain, so don’t feed me your nationalist bullshit, uncle sam speech. All I have done this entire godforsaken mission is give people information about ships to help them kill people. This is everything I was afraid of when I signed up.” Bucky said harshly. Steve crossed his arms and met Bucky’s eyes. They stayed locked like that for a moment, staring at each other intently. 

“We don’t have time for this. I don’t know how you have missed this, but there is a war going on out there and I am now responsible for the lives of hundreds of people. You may not know what that is like, but it doesn’t leave a lot of room for moral waffling about the nature of war.” Steve bit out, stomping towards the door back to the bridge. 

“I am not the one waffling, Steve.” Bucky shouted back at him, making a move to grab his arm. “I have always known where I stand on this issue. I missed the first fucking call from Fury about the job because I was at the fucking riots in Baltimore.” Bucky hissed. Steve turned around, eyes wide. 

“You went to those? The amount of cowardice on display at those rallies was sickening. I can’t believe you supported that.” Steve said, voice low. 

“Of course I fucking went. It is not cowardice to oppose violence, but it is cowardice to hide behind ideologies. I went to protest this fucking war, to stand up for what I believe in. I hate this war. Do you finally get it?” Bucky asked, taking a step backwards back into the office. 

“Clearly we are not going to see eye to eye on this point.” Steve said, voice quiet and resigned. “Right now, this was inevitable.” 

“Right. We managed to ignore it long enough.” Bucky said with a bitter chuckle. 

“”I guess I thought we could work through this.” Steve whispered into the darkness of the office. For a moment Bucky wondered if it was possible for them to simply work it out. If they talked it out, gave each other the benefit of the doubt, maybe they could come to some kind of understanding. Steve also hesitated, letting the quiet of the room sit for a few moments. 

“Bucky…” He began, but a knock from the office door interrupted whatever he was about to say and effectively breaking the tension in the room. 

“Sir,” Natasha’s voice came through the reinforced door and Bucky briefly wondered if anyone on the bridge had heard their argument. His face flushed at the thought. Glancing at Steve he could see his cheeks were pink as well. 

“Go ahead, Romanov.” Steve said, moving towards the door. The entrance swished open and Natasha was standing in the entrance, hand up on one cocked hip.

“We have reached the decision point, sir. We must make a choice and we must make it now.” She said in an even tone. Even as Bucky could feel his heart rate pick back up, her face remained impassive and blank. Bucky wondered what choice she would make, given the command. He pushed the thought from his head. It wasn’t relevant anyway, Steve had already made his choice. 

“My command stands. Prepare for battle.” He said. He glanced toward Bucky for a moment before walking quickly out of the office and back onto the bustling bridge. Bucky sighed and walked from the room as well, ready to face the consequences of his actions. 

“Barnes.” Natasha said, voice softer than normal. She had waited outside the door to the office, and grabbed his elbow to keep him in place. “Now might not be the best time to make important emotional choices.” She said with a note of warning 

“Thanks, ‘Tasha, but this was a long time coming.” He said quietly. 

“No, it really wasn’t Barnes. It was only a long time coming because both of you have the emotional intelligence of a fork.” She huffed out. “Listen, just, wait until this is all over, then give it another look. He’s not as sure as he seems but the role of Captain requires a certain bullishness.” She sighed. “Just, check back in after this whole thing blows over… I mean, if we all survive that is.” Bucky chuckled. 

“Okay, okay. If we survive, I will consider it.” He said, gently pulling his arm from her grasp. 

“Romanov!” Steve shouted from the command console. With a small eye roll she moved back towards her station, stance immediately shifting from one of friendly discussion to one of a lethal weapon. Bucky also took his seat again. 

“Enemy ship is incoming. Their intent signal is still strong and we need to be prepared for major damage.” She shouted, hands running across her console. 

“Potts, send out our own intent to engage signal.” Steve commanded. “Stark, prepare the emergency repairs squads.” The entire bridge worked with a frenetic energy, anxiety and excitement growing in tandem. 

“We have entered firing range for both ships, Captain.” Romanov called out as Clint began to bounce on his heels. 

“Right, Barton, fire when ready.” Steve said. Bucky shifted back in his seat, buckling one of the standard belts and watching the scene unfold in front of him. Both ships had fired and missiles streaked across the viewing screen, glowing bright against the black of space. 

There was a jolt when the missile connected, sending the bridge sideways for a moment. When they righted, more missiles were fired. 

Bucky waited impatiently, the jerking motion of impacts sending him back and forth in his seat. The entire spirit of this battle was different from before. There was no quick action, no sudden upset. Both ships were taking fair damage, slowly losing men and power. Without a major breakthrough soon, this was a zero sum game. Bucky began to run through the blueprints. He may disagree with this entire enterprise, but he would be dammed if he died aboard this fucking ship. 

Clint and Natasha shouted a steady stream of updates behind him, level six aft struck, firing long guns, hull damage sectioned off, shuttle bay 5 hit, massive internal damage, firing missiles, target hit. The words eventually blurred together, a constant stream as Bucky searched for anything to give them an advantage. 

Suddenly, Bucky was thrown against his console, belts straining against the force of the impact. The constant chatter from behind him was eerily silent for a few moments while computers blared warning alarms and codes that were all but gibberish to Bucky. 

“Aft helm hit, sir. Serious damage. Report incoming.” Natasha said, voice uncharacteristically horse. 

Bucky immediately opened the schematics for the Avenger, flipping through damage reports and aligning hit points. He placed the last impact, estimated the force and let out a small gasp. 

“Sir,” He began, voice hoarse. 

“Steering is gone.” Stark’s voice echoed across the bridge in a moment of perfect silence. “The ship’s steering is gone.” He repeated, voice cracking with stress. 

Bucky looked down at his own notes, the impact blared red, covering the connections between the main engine and the ship’s rudder. 

“We are sitting ducks.” Steve muttered, eyes darting back and forth across the screen in front of him. “We are thirty minutes into battle and our ship is stranded in deep space.” He seemed to be in disbelief, the entire bridge seemed frozen in place. 

“Tony.” Bucky said, voice finally returning to him. He felt the adrenaline slowly filter into his veins, his mind coming alive with solutions. “I have an idea.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew focuses on winning their toughest battle yet and getting home safely. Everyone works together, using their skills to push for victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of the battle versus the HMS Java.
> 
> Battle and violence occur but not graphic. 
> 
> Just the epilogue after this...

“We are sitting ducks.” Steve muttered, eyes darting back and forth across the screen in front of him. “We are thirty minutes into battle and our ship is stranded in deep space.” He seemed to be in disbelief, the entire bridge seemed frozen in place. 

“Tony.” Bucky said, voice finally returning to him. He felt the adrenaline slowly filter into his veins, his mind coming alive with solutions. “I have an idea.” Bucky immediately stood up, bending over his console, fingers flying. Within moments he had a clean image of the ship’s internal workings displayed before him. With a flick of his wrist, he raised a 3D model of the ship on top of his work console. He had highlighted the conflict areas, and he began to rearrange pathways. 

“Whatever Stark needs…” Steve said from the command console, “Whatever is possible.” He said. Bucky turned to look at him for a moment. Steve’s face was dark and clouded but still focused on the space in front of him. Clint was still firing on the enemy, the ship still functioning for the moment. It would likely be fine until she took another big hit and couldn’t straighten back out in order to fire on the enemy, hence the urgency of his work. Bucky nodded briefly and returned to his work. 

“What’s on your mind Barnes?” Tony’s voice buzzed through his earpiece. “Now would be a really fantastic time to start talking again seeing as I’m about to have a complete mental breakdown and just start sobbing into the generators down here.” Tony sounded slightly hysterical. A small part of Bucky’s brain desperately hoped that this conversation was being recorded just so he could haunt Tony with it later. First though, they would have to get the ship moving again.

“Okay Tony, tell me exactly what the situation down there looks like. What do we have left?” Bucky asked, raising another 3D diagram of the helm specifically. 

“Well, for starters the steering on your end is totally fine. Wilson should be fine in the pilot’s seat.” Tony started off. Bucky glanced down the space of the bridge, finding Wilson in his seat. He had been oddly quiet since the helm was destroyed. 

“Wilson, what controls are you seeing right now?” Bucky shouted down to him. Luckily, he managed to hear over the perpetual sounds of battle aboard the bridge. 

“Everything here looks totally normal, except that when I try to do anything, the ship doesn’t respond. It’s like a never ending fucking 404 error.” Wilson shouted back. Parker slid a hand around his back, leaning in to whisper in his ear. Bucky shrugged it off and went back to his work. 

“Yeah Tony, Wilson is fine. Full controls available, but no corresponding functionality. What else you got?” Bucky responded. 

“Right well, here’s where things get messy.” Tony said with a grunt. Bucky could hear a low whistling and the noises of metal grinding against itself. “You want the good or bad first?” He asked. Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“I couldn’t care less just give me something to work with!” Bucky growled into his earpiece. 

“Good news first then. The impulse engines are fine and functioning properly. They were far enough from the blast that they’re in good shape. Otherwise, the rudder itself is in pretty good shape. A little beat up but it’ll still move.” He said, making another grunting noise. 

“Bad news?” Bucky said, illuminating the safe areas with a glowing green. 

“Well the real issue is the connection here. The part that got blown out is the actual turning mechanism on the rudder. The both the right and the left motorized windlasses are completely shot. No possibility for recovery.” Tony said, clearly moving through the bowels of the ship. 

“What about the leads connecting the rudder to the windlasses?” Bucky asked, completing the damage diagram. 

“They’re fine up until you read the windlass. She’s got an unusually long distance, so you’re actually got quite a bit of electronic rope down here. And we have some extra for emergency repairs. I think this would qualify.” Tony said. “Got any ideas?” 

“Yeah, actually. I think there might be a way to turn the impulse engines into a surrogate tiller, more or less.” Bucky explained, expanding the impacted part of the diagram. 

“You mean use the impulse engines to steer the rudder of the ship?” Tony asked, voice laced with confusion. 

“Yeah. We could tie some frankenstein patchwork electrical rope from the two sides of the rudder to the impulse engines. They have a small amount of stretch movement to account for small scale shifts in impulse directions. So if we can couple that subtle shift with the force of the impulse acceleration, we could produce a limited range of motion in the rudder. The impulse engines can be controlled down in the engine room, correct?” Bucky asked, drawing glowing lines between the impulse engines and the rudder. 

“Of course, but you’d have to coordinate two different pilots across the gap to work in nearly perfect unison. It’s still pretty risky.” Tony said. “I mean… It’s not a good plan.” Tony said, voice unsure. “But it is a plan. Let’s get it going.” He said, starting to send out his orders to the crew in the engine room. 

“Let us know when we can try it out.” Bucky said back into the headset before turning to face Steve. “Captain Rogers, we are implementing an alternative solution.” Bucky said hesitantly. “Basically we are going to create a new tiller system... “ He began to explain but Steve cut him off. 

“I heard you explain it to Stark. I can’t say that I fully understand what you two are planning to do, but I trust you.” He said, face softening. 

“We do need to assign the two pilots to the makeshift tiller.” Bucky said. “And figure out and set up a command structure that allows you to get orders to them as they are needed.” Steve frowned for a moment. 

“We should send Wilson regardless.” He said, punching a code into his own console. “I’ll get the beta shift pilot up to the bridge, in case we regain some kind of function. Beta navigator too. Wilson! Parker!” He shouted. In moments, both Wade and Peter walked up to the command desk. From a distance they had both looked relatively stable, but up close Bucky could see the stress showing through the cracks. Wade shifted uneasily between his feet. Peter’s hands were shaking where he held them behind his back. 

“I am reassigning you to the engine room for the remainder of this battle.” Steve said, still moving elements around on his console. “Basically we are going to use the two impulse engines to move the rudder by sheer force.” Steve said with a tinge of uncertainty in his voice. He glanced at Bucky who nodded, before he continued. “Wilson you will pilot the right impulse engine. I need you to pick another pilot to drive the left hand engine. Obviously pick someone you work well with, since you will need to practically read their mind.” Steve explained. 

“Nathan Summers would probably be ideal. We’ve, uh, worked together before.” Wilson said, rubbing the back of his head. Parker stiffened next to him but said nothing. 

“Done.” Steve said. “And Parker, you will be down in the engine space. I am going to comm to you where the ship needs to go, you will then relay to the Summers and Wilson how they will move their engines. You are the crux between the command and the pilots, just like on the bridge. Understood?” Steve asked. 

“Understood sir.” Parker said, voice shaky. 

“There will be a temporary navigation unit set up in the engine bay.” Steve said. He glanced back up at the battle raging on in front of them. “Dismissed. Assume your new posts immediately.” He said with a wave of his hand. 

As Peter and Wade left the bridge, another impact rocked the crew in their seats. Bucky was so engrossed in his work he hadn’t noticed the series of small hits the Avenger had taken since they began planning for the engine disaster. They were already beginning to drift off course. Bucky was not a religious man, but he sent up a small prayer that they managed to finagle a solution before it was too late. 

“Status update, Stark. We’ve sent you two pilots and a navigator. Set up some kind of temporary station for the navigator when he gets there.” Steve said into the comm unit. 

“Got it Captain.” Stark responded. “Just as long as it isn’t that Parker kid. Criminal to let someone that young drive my beautiful ship.” Stark muttered. 

“It is the Parker kid, Stark, and you will make use of him to the best of his not inconsiderable abilities. I asked for a status update.” Steve responded, voice harsh. 

“Fine, fine. The engines are all tied up and initial tests do seem to suggest that this could work. It’s not a precise system, but we should be able to at least control her movements.” Stark explained. While he was speaking two more crew members walked aboard the bridge and immediately headed for the front consoles. They assumed the positions for pilot and navigator, bringing back up the computer displays and taking in the situation as it played out. 

“Okay, everyone is in place down here.” Stark’s voice returned a few minutes later. The ship had taken a few more hits in that time and had begun to drift off to the right of the enemy ship, opening their side for attack. 

“Alright, Parker, do you read me?” Steve said, tapping a few buttons on his console. 

“Yes, Captain.” Came the timid response through to the command console. 

“Good. Swing the ship 30 degrees to the left.” Steve said. Bucky glanced back towards him and noticed his hands gripping the sides of his chair, knuckles turning white. Bucky turned back around quickly, securing his own safety belts into place before the ship made a sharp jerk to the left. 

It certainly wasn’t a graceful maneuver but it did manage to shift the Avenger back into the proper position. The system was working. Bucky spun around in his chair, a grin splitting his face. Steve looked down briefly to meet his eyes. He gave him a soft smile before returning to the battle at hand. 

“Success!” Stark shouted over the comms and for a brief moment Bucky felt light with joy. He had saved the crew. 

“Captain!” Clint shouted from his console. “I think our little stunt may have angered the Mayallians. They seem to be unloading their entire arsenal on us!” Clint shouted, hands flying across his screen. Natasha was busy calling commands into her headset, attempting to rearrange security groups and shields in order to deal with the oncoming barrage. 

“We’re about to take pretty massive damage, sir.” She said without preamble. 

“Any way we can mitigate the damage?” Steve asked, voice growing tense again. 

“Not without actual engines. We can move again, but we are not going to be able to out maneuver a ship with working engines.” Natasha responded. 

“Brace for impact!” Clint shouted. Several harsh impacts rocked the ship, nearly tipping it onto it’s side. The entire bridge seemed to be suspended in air for a moment while Steve shouted coordinates into his earpiece. With a great heave, the Avenger did reorder itself. However in the time it took for the ship to regain balance, the Mayallian’s had flown past the ship, taking advantage of her weakness to attack her already damaged back. 

“Fuck.” Clint shouted from the console, firing a long series of weapons at the enemy vessel. 

The first few hits were dead on, sending the Avenger reeling, but Clint’s barrage did eventually hit, knocking the enemy vessel off course and resetting the battle. 

“Massive back end damage.” Natasha reported, voice tight. “They’re having some trouble establishing a seal.” She continued and for several tense moments no one spoke. “Seal established.” She said, breathing a sigh of relief. 

Bucky’s joy from earlier had totally dissipated. He wondered for a moment what the death toll was for this battle already. The Avenger was practically in pieces missing parts of nearly every side of the ship. The steering was out of commission, med bay was overwhelmed. Bucky continued to input damage onto his diagram of the ship. They simply could not hold out much longer. The original prediction, that neither ship would win, seemed to be coming true right before their eyes. 

“Now Clint!” Steve shouted, spotting an opening in the Mayallian’s strategy. Without a second of hesitation, Clint fired a single missile into the very heart of the Mayallian ship. A huge chunk of their hull swung free, floating off into space. 

Bucky wondered for a moment if it ended this quickly. A single missile well placed after all of the other destruction before this. Before Bucky could even finish the thought, the Mayallian’s were firing again. This was no where near over.   
_________________________________________________________

It was nearly three hours since they had lost steering and Bucky had to admit, Parker, Summers and Wilson were actually getting pretty good at operating the ship in the given circumstances. 

Both vessels were in tatters. The Mayallian’s had lost even more from the large hole in their hull and the Avenger had taken some pretty serious damage to the lower deck levels, adding to the damage on the back of the ship. It was a miracle she was still flying and both Natasha and Tony had reached their limits for repairs and patches. 

Medbay was another story. There were so many casualties, they could not hope to keep up. Steve had received a series of increasingly distressed calls. There was a breaking point in any given battle and they had finally reached that point, Bucky thought to himself. 

“Sir.” Wanda spoke up from the front of the bridge. “Sir, I have an incoming message.” She said, voice growing louder with excitement. “They’re surrendering sir!” She shouted, leaping up from her seat. “Look!” She pointed towards the front screen. There was a tense moment of silence and then a single long gun was fired away from the battle. The signal of a surrender. A great cheer went up across the bridge as members of the crew began to laugh and cry. The relief and the catharsis were palpable in the room. 

Bucky glanced back at Steve who had slumped down in his chair, face drawn blank. 

“You okay?” Bucky asked, getting up from his seat. 

“We did it.” Steve said, leaning forward against his console. “I mean, the ship is more or less completely destroyed and we have lost an enormous number of men, but we aren’t going to have to surrender.” Steve said, his voice full of awe.

“Yeah. We can go home. Get some rest.” Bucky said, walking up towards the command desk. 

“Bucky, about before… I… “ Steve began, eyes shining brightly with unshed tears. 

“Let’s talk about it later.” Bucky said, sliding his hand into Steve’s where it lay on his console. “Right now, you have a surrender to accept.” Bucky said, mouth twitching upward. “And then we are going to need some serious assistance getting this ship back into a port for repairs.” Bucky said, face drawing into a frown. 

“We do have to negotiate a surrender now, don’t we.” Steve said, face growing concerned again. 

“I’ll help.” Natasha piped up from behind them. Bucky and Steve quickly tore their hands apart, both looking away from each other. Natasha just rolled her eyes. “I have negotiated surrenders before. Situation was pretty different, but I have a general understanding of how these things work.” She said. “We’re going to need to contact medical first. We will have to treat any of their soldiers who are still alive and need medical assistance, as well as finding accommodations on board for any survivors.” She said with confidence. Steve quickly began to write down everything she said. 

Bucky withdrew from the conversation, walking back to the model of the totally destroyed Avenger. He ran his hands over each gap and every impact point, his metal fingers phasing through the delicate projection. They could so easily have died. Many good people probably did die. However, this battle would certainly change the tide of the war. A solo victory with an evenly matched vessel. That was a statement.

He paused for a moment to look at the steering system, still drawn into the diagram. 

In many ways, this is not what he had intended to do with his time fighting this war. He had broken nearly all of his principles while aboard this ship. But looking at the ridiculous, stupid system currently operating on the back of their ship, Bucky couldn’t help but feel proud. Proud of himself, proud of this crew and proud of the ship. 

One day, when the war was over, Bucky knew he would have to come to terms with the choices he had made in the last few months. Of course, there were going to be many things to regret, better options, stronger strategies and more informed decisions. 

And yet, there would also be things he couldn’t possibly regret. Bucky turned his head to look at Steve. He was still deep in conversation with Natasha. A few seconds later, he glanced over at Bucky and gave him a small smile.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War is over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a quick little epilogue to wrap things up. 
> 
> Whew!

“We’re going to have to fly the ship backwards.” Steve said, his tone brokered no argument, but that had never stopped this crew before. 

“That might be the worst idea you could possible come up with and I’m not even sure I know what it means.” Clint said from his post. 

“Do you have another option, Barton?” Natasha said, glaring across the console. She had officially taken the role as second in command, but insisted on remaining at her station. Bucky wondered many times if it was mostly so that she could kick Clint without having to leave her post. 

“It’s the only option.” Steve said. Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“This is probably your worst idea.” Bucky said, spinning around in his chair to face Steve. When they had run across two Mayallian ships earlier that day, this was not how Bucky had imagined this battle playing out. Both ships were small, though together they equaled the Avenger in fire power. They had managed to force the larger ship to surrender, but the smaller ship was giving a good fight. 

“Well we’re doing it anyway.” Steve said, punching a series of command code into the computer. 

“Fantastic.” Bucky muttered to himself, turning around to update his projections of the ship. “Tony we’re gonna do it anyway.” Bucky said into his comm unit. 

“Wahoo!” Tony sang into the microphone. “I am so onboard with this. I have always wanted to try and reverse the intake and output on the engines.” Tony said, voice bright with excitement. 

“You do know the engines could totally melt down and cause nuclear disaster, correct?” BUcky asked, voice laced with sarcasm. 

“You have no scientific spirit, party pooper.” Tony responded. “Besides, I’m pretty sure it’ll work.” 

“How did you ever get a job on board this ship?” Bucky muttered to himself. 

“I ask myself that question everyday!” Tony responded. “Okay, I’ve got the polarization all set up to reverse.” He said into the open comm channel. 

“Do it now Stark!” Steve shouted, hands gripped against his seat. 

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut as the ship suddenly lurched backwards, pulling level with the Mayallian vessel. 

“Now Clint! Do it now!” Steve shouted and Clint opened fire on the enemy vessel. Bucky could hear Stark laughing through the comm unit. He slouched back in his chair and wondered how he had come to this point in his life. 

__________________________________________________

Since these ships were both fairly small and not terribly damaged, the surrender process was very short. Steve and Natasha handled it extremely well. They were a good match, for a command unit. Steve dealt with most of the diplomatic elements while Natasha worked through the process of taking on all crew from the other ship with frightening efficiency. 

Bucky was sprawled out on the couch when Steve finally returned to their quarters. 

“That was pretty quick.” Bucky said, halfway through eating a box of cheese crackers on his own. Steve sat down next to him and demanded the box. Bucky let him have a handful. 

“You’re lucky I love you.” He muttered under his breath. 

“I am.” He said with a smile. “Yeah. Natasha is structuring the crew transfers, but once I finished the negotiations I decided to bow out. She will call if she needs me.” Steve said, eating through his crackers with gusto. 

“She won’t need you.” Bucky responded, sticking out his tongue. 

“I know.” Steve said with a laugh. He kicked off his shoes and leaned back on the couch, slinging an arm over Bucky’s shoulders. 

“What a long fucking day.” He said, sighing as he relaxed into Bucky’s side. 

“Yeah…” Bucky agreed. He was interrupted by an emergency message alert sounding throughout the ship. Both men scrambled off of the couch and immediately opened a screen to read the alert. 

“Holy shit.” Bucky ground out. “For real?” He asked, looking up at Steve to confirm they’d read the same message. 

“They signed the treaty!” Steve said back in disbelief. “The war is over!” His face broke into a giant grin. Abandoning the message, Bucky threw himself into Steve’s arms who spun him around before setting him back down. They stayed close to each other, Steve’s arms wrapped around Bucky’s waist. 

“We get to go home, Steve.” Bucky whispered, eyes welling up with tears. “You going back to New York?” Bucky asked, his voice tentative. 

“Yeah. I think so.” Steve said, his voice also dropping to nearly a whisper. “I’m going to see what I can do with my fancy rank and war record to convince the Federation to increase diplomatic ties with other nations. Maybe I’ll even run for office.” He said with a smile. “Bucky…” He began trailing off. 

“Stark offered me a job. Actually.” Bucky said suddenly. “Working with him on anti-missile defense and emergency repair. And it would mean I could continue to work with his prosthetics program.” He said, playing with the collar on Steve’s uniform. 

“That’s fantastic, Buck.” Steve said with a sad smile. 

“He’s moving his lab to New York City.” Bucky said in a rush, not looking up to Steve’s face. He could feel his arms tighten around his waist though, and he could feel he kisses he pressed into his hair. He pressed his face into the side of his neck, breathing out slowly. 

“Move in with me?” Steve asked, voice muffled by Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky pulled back quickly, looking Steve in the eye. 

“Seriously?” He asked, voice bright with hope. 

“Of course.” He responded and Bucky let out a bright laugh. 

“Yes, yes yes, you ass!” Bucky said, still laughing. Together they fell onto the couch, content in each other’s embrace.


End file.
